End Of Me
by Lyonene
Summary: Dean is supposed to be hitting 5 states in 5 days. Instead he stops for a drink, a slice of pie and it goes from there when he meets Jane. A girl with a gun, crappy job, and hates to be called sweetheart but doesn't mind when he 'kidnaps' her. She did mind when he left her stranded, aware of the supernatural and married. Begins in 98/99 & progresses through the show Ft. Dean/OFC
1. Pie

**A/N:** This is my first venture into the Supernatural fandom and it's Dean/OFC. Sorry guys, I don't write slash, I just read it on occasion. I've watched seasons 1 - 7, haven't watched 8 yet even though it's finally on Netflix and am now rewatching everything as a 'refresher'. The beginning is set during 98/99 when Dean was on a '5 days, 5 states' road trip supposedly. SPOILER ALERT: He was actually at Lisa's loft, which has been changed so technically I suppose this isn't canon-compliant as I removed Lisa from this and have no intention of putting her back in at any point.

Apologies in advance for Dean's OOCness, I'm working on it, promise.

Reviews are great, flames are used for baking cookies.

* * *

**Pie**

* * *

**1998... or 1999**

He had to of been about 19, maybe 20, but apparently nobody but her noticed because he was served the beer he ordered. Not that it would have mattered; her daddy didn't give a rat's behind about age, so long as you looked over 16 and didn't raise a fuss. And if the cops showed up as they were occasionally wont to do, he would quickly lie and spout off some bull crap about the underage drinker 'stealing' from the bottles.

Jane snorted, shaking her lowered head as she resumed sweeping the floor. It was nearing closing time, and daddy was already counting the till while mama was beginning the process of ushering out the drunks. She had just turned 18, that same day, and lucky her… she had spent her birthday in the bar. Serving drinks to the regulars and the strays, both varieties delighting in slapping her gray, cotton skirt covered behind.

"Janey, hurry up girl, I need you to wipe down the counters."

"Yes, daddy…" Sighing, she finished up, emptied the dustpan and stowed the broom back in the tiny little closet where _her _meager cleaning supplies resided. She grabbed the cleaning solution they used, a fresh rag and slowly ambled towards the bar. Daddy was moving away, probably to go run the money home and store it in the safe.

Another sigh, and she started wiping down the counter, listening to mama coaxing the last person –besides underage at the bar- out the door.

"Jane, you have him out of here in five, not a second later."

Jane frowned, looking up.

"I'm going to go make sure he don't try skimming any of that money. Five minutes."

And now it was her and him.

"They do that to you often?"

He spoke, and she simply shrugged her shoulders. "Often enough." She raised stormy gray eyes from the dingy counter she had been half-heartedly wiping down to meet hazel eyes, they looked green but she could see brown as well.

"They'd just leave you alone with a stranger like that?"

His voice was a bit rough. She kind of liked it, not that it mattered much.

"What if I'm a serial murderer?"

The corner of her pale pink lips curved slightly and she dunked down to grab the9 mm from beneath the counter. When she straightened, she was aiming it at him, safety off. "Are you a serial murder?"

He considered her, finally raising his half-empty glass and drained it. "Nope. Just a drifter." He set the glass down in front of her. "How much time do I have left?"

"A few minutes."

"That your daddy's gun?"

"No, it's mine. He has a sawed off."

"Good choice."

"Only for close range. Anything else and they're worthless."

"Fair enough. That why you use the nine?"

"Mostly, and it fits in my backpack."

"Backpack? You still in school?" He smiled gratefully when she set another glass down in front of him. "Since we're breaking rules, how about a whiskey chaser?"

"Sure, and that'll be seven bucks."

"Seven?"

Jane nodded, holding out her hand, gun now setting on the counter between them. "Sure. The drink, the chaser, and the fact that you are now out of time."

"Well hell Jane, I should at least get a slice of pie for seven bucks."

"There's a diner across town that's open 24/7 and no, I'm not in school. I just cart around the backpack because purses don't carry everything I need on me. What's your name?"

"Dean." He cleared his throat and winced, shaking his head slightly as the whiskey burned a trail down his throat. "Come on, I'll buy."

Jane froze, the coins he had paid her with dropping into the till noisily. "What?"

"Pie."

"You paid me in dimes and quarters."

Dean flashed her a very charming smile, one she was certain worked quite well for him. "So?"

"What'll you pay the waitress with? Nickels?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Let me grab my coat and lock up, I should probably put the gun away too..." She said finally, turning away in order to hide her own small smile.

"It'll be in pennies."

* * *

"I thought you were joking about the pennies." Jane had never been so mortified in her life. She had shifted in the booth, turning away from the waitress, and blushed like she had never blushed before when Dean had paid for two slices of pie… in pennies. What was worse, he had done it with a flourish and no shame.

"Nope." He was already forking pie into his mouth, smirking at her. "Come on now Jane, I just paid a hundred and fifteen pennies for that slice. Don't waste it now, sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart." She scowled, lifting the fork. Why had she agreed to this? The silver lining was that the pie was delicious, rhubarb, she loved rhubarb. "You really a drifter?"

"Sort of." Dean spoke around the food in his mouth, fork tines scraping his almost empty plate. "Work keeps me busy, moving a lot. I'm on… a road trip, vacation type deal." He laughed. It sounded forced, even to his own ears. "Bar wench, huh?"

"That's me, the bar wench." She muttered, stabbing at her crust until it crumbled. "It's temporary, trust me."

"Sure, sure."

"I mean it. I'm not going to be there long, just long enough to-"

"Save up and leave town. Move to the big city, go to college, that sort of thing?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Sounds boring."

"You're a 'drifter' who pays with loose change. How's that working for you?"

"So far so good, bought you dessert didn't it?"

"You can take me home now, Dean."

He was finished with his slice anyways, and stood up. Smirking, Dean leaned over to swipe his finger through what remained of her whipped cream, then popped the digit in his mouth. "If that's what you want, sweetheart."

Huffing, she stood up as well, tugging her sweater back on over the oh so lovely matching gray blouse she wore to match her skirt –complete with a black, pocketed apron. It was way past two, she was tired, her feet hurt, and- "Don't call me that."

Dean pushed open the door, gesturing for her to go first. "Ladies first."

Jane made a mental note to never accept pie, or rides, from strangers. Especially strangers like him.


	2. Mexico

**Mexico**

"You know, we're open all day long, you could come in before ten minutes till closing."

"I've thought about it. But I might wind up hustling some of your customers at pool."

Shaking her head, Jane simply got him a beer and his whiskey chaser. "Maybe you should. You could use dollars instead of change to pay for things."

"Thanks," Dean bobbed his head when his drinks were set down before him. "And for the record, I have cash; I just had a bunch of loose change to get rid of."

Huffing, she moved down the counter to collect some actual money.

Smiling slightly, Dean sipped his beer. He didn't engage anyone else in small talk; he just drank, and listened. He listened as Jane's parents began giving her instructions, the way they spoke made it seem like this was a nightly routine. The way Jane simply nodded her head said it was.

He had spent part of his day sleeping, and the other part checking out the local scene besides the bar and diner. He had also done some research, made sure things were… straight, with the town. Habits were hard to break. He hadn't planned on coming back, there really was no point. Jane seemed a nice enough girl, pretty enough, but… not the kind of company he usually preferred.

Speaking of Jane… she was moving back behind the bar, and he could smell the scent of whatever cleaning product she had been using rolling off of her. He drained his glass, keeping his eyes on it and hid a smile when her long, pale fingers wrapped around it. A moment later, he had a fresh beer and whiskey chaser. "Keep treating me so good sweetheart, and I might follow you home."

"No, you wouldn't. I'm not your type." Jane said matter-of-factly, ignoring the seductive purr he had used very successfully on other women.

"How do you figure?"

"I'm not blonde."

Dean was a bit taken aback by that and leaned forward, studying her thoughtfully. She was tall enough, a bit lanky and… well, her gray uniform was shapeless and somewhat baggy in places; it was hard to tell if she was tomboyish in figure or had any curves. He would hazard a guess that any curves she did have wouldn't be more than a… mouthful or handful. Gray eyes, glossy pink lips, and frizzy black hair that was pulled back into a messy looking bun at the base of her neck. Maybe if she cleaned herself up…

"Two minutes."

"You're cheerful tonight."

"I'm tired. It's been a long day and I'd like to get to bed before four AM."

"That's just no fun, Jane. You got to learn to live a little sweetheart."

"You call me sweetheart _one_ more time and I will shoot you on the spot."

* * *

She was an idiot. She had meant to go home and crawl into bed. She had gotten lucky last night, nobody had heard her come into the house, and she hadn't been dumb enough to say anything. This was just pushing it. After closing down and following Dean out into the unlit, poorly paved parking lot, she had prepared to send him packing so she could enjoy a brisk walk home in the chilly air.

Instead, she was standing out here in her tennis shoes and uniform, arms wrapped around herself, and her backpack slung over her shoulder, staring at Dean. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Come on Jane, I slept all day and I'm wired."

"How is that my problem?"

"You're the only person I know in town."

"I highly doubt that."

"Fine, you're the only girl who I've bothered to remember a name for."

"I'm flattered." She said dryly.

"You should be. Now let's go."

She had promised herself no more taking rides from strangers…. She was horrible at keeping her promises to herself.

"This feels not so much like a tourist trip but a kidnapping." Jane commented two hours after finally getting into the Impala. Dean had driven around, listening to her dry monotone about the town and then…. Then he had started out of town and for some reason, she hadn't panicked. She hadn't said anything, until now.

"Feeling scared? Threatened? Like maybe I am a serial murderer after all?"

"Not really."

Dean glanced at her, a slight frown marring his features. "You're really too trusting for your own good, you know that?"

"Not really." She stared out the window. "You make it a habit to take off with strange girls?"

"Not really. I generally just take them back to the motel."

"Bit of a sleaze, aren't you?"

"I'm honest about it."

"Slow down."

"Oh come on sweetheart, I'm not that bad."

"Dean, slow down."

"Jane?" His frown deepened as he glanced at her again. She was staring straight ahead and pressing herself back into her seat as far as she could. He looked out the windshield. "Jane, there's nothing…"

"Three. Two. BRAKE, DEAN, BRAKE!"

Still nothing, but his foot was now hovering over the brake. "Jane…"

She covered her eyes.

"Holy shit!" He hit the brake.

* * *

"That could have been worse."

Dean threw Jane an annoyed glance, staring down at the now dented front of his car. No, his dad's car, and groaned. "I'm so dead."

"It was just a deer… happens all the time."

"Not to me, not in this car."

"I did warn you to brake."

"Yeah, I know… I… wait, how'd you know?"

"I have slight psychic abilities." She deadpanned. "This road is famous for accidents with the wildlife. I told you to slow down."

"I got to get this fixed…" He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, frowning down at the hood of the car. "And tequila would be nice."

"Tequila would be great."

* * *

"Wake up…"

Jane shook her head, rolling so she was facing the wall.

"Come on, wake up."

"No…"

"Sweetheart, get the hell out of my car."

She cracked open an eye. The wall was the backseat. She was curled up in the damn car and she was guessing it was mid-morning by how obscenely bright it was outside. Slowly, she sat up and stretched as much as she was able, peering through narrowed eyes at their surroundings. "Dean, where are we?"

"Uh, Mexico, I think… but good news, I fixed the car, dents are gone." He grinned at her through the open window, leaning in to press a Styrofoam cup of coffee into her hand.

"How?"

"I know my way around a car-"

"I mean, with what? What'd you use?"

"I borrowed some stuff from a garage from a town about twenty miles back. You snore, you know that?" He opened the door, gesturing for her to get out.

"I do now. Mexico? Really?" Jane sipped the coffee. It was black, bitter, and it was good. "I've never been to Mexico."

"I got a few more days before I have to meet up with my dad and brother."

"Oh… I shouldn't… my folks are probably freaking out…" That was true, ish. They were probably wondering who was going to do the free labor at the bar. Speaking of… "I don't even have any money, or clothes."

"Jane, don't worry so much. Just… let me show you how to have a good time."

Oh this was so bad…. She nodded.


	3. Translation

**Translation**

"We were invited to a wedding tomorrow night." Dean came to a stop, the words he'd been about to say dying on his lips. Earlier, he had checked them into an inn, and much to his chagrin, been put into separate rooms as they weren't married. Not that that stopped him from just waltzing into Jane's room, like just now… while she was apparently changing. "At least, I think it's a wedding. Could be dinner. I don't speak Mexican and they sure as hell don't speak English."

"Spanish and do you mind?" Jane demanded, turning so her back was to him as she slid her arms through the white blouse.

"Not at all. I bought them, didn't I?"

That made her grit her teeth, though she kept her head down, focusing on fastening the buttons. The blouse was lovely, the ankle length skirt and flat shoes were also lovely. He had bought her lovely clothes… but that did not entitle him to a free show. "I'll pay you back."

"No need, sweetheart."

He was right behind her now. Jane turned around, frowning slightly as he reached out a hand. "What are you doing?"

"Your hair is down." He began finger combing the black tresses that lay over her shoulder. "I've only seen it up, and frizzy."

"You sure know how to charm a girl."

"I try."

Clearing her throat, Jane stepped away, putting a respectable amount of space between them. "Wedding or dinner?"

"Could be both. Come on, let's go check it out."

* * *

It was a wedding, which would be followed by a reception, which meant food and liquor. Dean was a happy man. Of course that was _tomorrow_ night; they still had to get through the rest of today. Luckily for him, Jane seemed to know enough Spanish –Mexican, whichever, tomato, tomahto- to get by for them both.

"Come on sweetheart, find out what there is to do around here." He urged, flashing a smile at the older woman Jane was attempting to talk too.

"Don't call me sweetheart."

"Just do it, unless you'd like to go back to the hotel and…"

Jane narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention back to the lady she was trying to speak with. He was such a pervert and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she was still here. She should have done the smart thing and phoned home, or the cops, and announced she had been kidnapped by some strange guy. A strange guy who thought he was charming and had a smile that could melt…

_Whoa Jane, reign that in_ _now_

She was shocked back into the conversation by a word she was misinterpreting. Or not, even Dean picked it up and moved in closer, looking more interested now. "Ghost, she's saying something about a ghost, and the wedding."

Dean's eyes narrowed slightly, and he heaved a sigh. "Always a catch."

Jane just quirked an eyebrow at him.

* * *

Perfect, just perfect. He came on a vacation to get away from hunting and what happens? A case, that's what, just perfect. Dean glanced at Jane from the corner of his eye and regretted buying her the skirt, that thing was going to get snagged on brush or something. He scratched the regret part, it could be interesting… Providing they didn't kill themselves in the dark.

"What are we doing up here?"

"Paying our respects." He muttered, eyeballing the small cemetery with a deepening frown. "Find her."

"Find her… The bride? Seriously?" Jane balled her free fist and planted it on her hip; glowering at him through the light provided by the lantern she carried in her other hand. "You dragged me up here to find a grave of some local legend? Are you out of your mind?"

"Just do it." He walked away from her, his own lantern lighting his way as he trekked to where he had stashed his gear earlier in the day. He had left her to browse the market stalls after using her as a translator for a very awkward investigation that had probably left her questioning his sanity.

Well now, she wasn't questioning it, she was full on thinking he was a psycho. Hell, he couldn't blame her.

He could only imagine what his father would say, knowing he had dragged a civilian onto a hunt, and one like her no less. He blocked out the mentally reaming his consciousness was providing him. Dad wasn't here. He had to make do with what he had, and he had needed a translator. Even if she was a crappy one.

From what he had been able to piece together was that some woman way back when had been jilted on her wedding day and then murdered her run-away groom and his lover. Now anyone who was ballsy enough to try marrying in the town's rather beautiful courtyard garden was just asking to die.

Apparently this decade's bride didn't believe the legend and had gone ahead with planning her wedding and reception within the courtyard. That had been enough to set the ghost off and there had been a number of accidents. Dean preferred to think of them as warnings, but the bride wasn't listening to reason, she was determined to go ahead with her wedding. He wasn't going to lie, letting her die was tempting, she was being stupid but…

"This is her."

He bent down, picking up the satchel and shovel he had stowed earlier. "Good." Translation, that's what she was here for. That was what he was going to tell himself, and that very Dad like voice in his head.

* * *

Jane was crouching in the dirt, studying the weathered stone that marked the grave. She was in a graveyard, in Mexico, in the middle of the night with a very strange man. She was pretty sure she was going to wind up on the back of a milk carton. The sound of Dean's boots alerted her to his presence and she looked up, frowning as she tried to make out what he was carrying.

A second later, the shovel piercing dirt told her all she needed to know and she fell backwards onto her butt. "Are you insane?!"

"I'm starting to wonder that myself." He muttered, beginning to dig.


	4. Tequila

**Tequila**

This was insane. Jane though the most crazy thing she had ever done had been to let herself be hauled to Mexico by a strange albeit handsome guy that she didn't really know. No… that was mild. This now topped the list. She was standing in a graveyard, in the middle of the night, watching said strange albeit handsome guy dig up an ancient grave. "This is illegal."

"Sweetheart, either shut up or… no, just shut up. And keep an eye out, let me know if anyone is coming."

"Don't call me that! And I will not shut-" She shut up, frowning as she watched the woman behind Dean. Well, behind and slightly over, he had dug a sizeable hole by this point. "Hola?"

"I told you to-" He stopped, staring at her and then turned, letting out a curse. "It's her!" He was already scrambling out of the grave, which wasn't easy given that he had hit the wooden, rotted coffin. "Get my gun."

She dropped to a crouch, eyes fastened on the approaching apparition. She was wavering between skepticism, fear, and something almost giddy. "Her? The bride?" Her tone was shaky and sarcastic as she fumbled in his bag for his sawed off. "That's-" He snatched the gun from her and she recoiled, clamping her hands over her ears.

She had disappeared, the instant before he thought he shot her. Dean turned in a circle, trying to ignore the sounds of Jane scuffling about in the dirt below him. "Quiet!" He was almost instantly rewarded with muffled scuffling sounds. "Come on bitch, where'd you go?"

That was a ghost and it wasn't freaking her out as much as she would have thought. What was freaking her out was the fact that the legend said this was a murderous ghost, and she wasn't keen on the idea of dying because of someone already dead. She would go through the break down, I'm crazy, it's not real thing after this fiasco was over with.

Dean was trying to get a clear shot on this jilted would-be bride, who was not taking his intentions of putting her to rest very well. He lost track of Jane, so long as she stayed out of his way and Lolita here remained focused on him, he wasn't going to worry about the woman he had basically kidnapped. Sort of.

Then he heard wailing and whirled around, finding the bride on fire and Jane trying to claw her way out of the grave. Smoke was rising from behind her and flames were starting to jump, high enough to reach her because she let out a low scream. "Jane!"

"Get me out!" She screeched, grabbing his wrists when he reached for her. She let Dean do the work of pulling her out, now trying to kick her on fire skirt away from her legs. The moment he let go and she was on solid ground, she dropped and rolled, tugging at the waist at the same time.

He didn't think, just reacted and helped her, ripping the very ruined skirt down her legs and kicked it into the flame behind him. "Jane, are you all right? Are your burnt bad?"

She sat up, reaching with trembling hands to assess her legs. "No… no… I'm…" Her eyes strayed to the grave and to where the ghost had gone up. "I need a drink."

"Me too, sweetheart." He dropped down beside her.

* * *

Tequila hangovers were the worse.

Jane didn't mind that she had fallen asleep wrapped in only a towel. She didn't mind that she had fallen asleep, in only a towel, next to Dean, in his bed. She didn't even mind the fact that he had stripped down to nothing but a sheet. What she minded was the construction going on in her head and the equally painful and annoying sounds of celebration going on outside.

It wasn't helped that as soon as her thought process became somewhat ordered, she began recalling the prior night, and this morning's, events. They had killed a ghost. Well, she had. With salt and fire. Dean had explained some things to her, she had called them both crazy. They had drank. She had finally admitted she wasn't crazy but he definitely was. Drank some more.

He had asked her how she had known what to do. She had once again told him she was psychic.

More tequila.

She didn't remember falling asleep, she just knew she had. Obviously, she was now up.

"No…"

Jane glanced down, arching an eyebrow at the sight of Dean flailing a hand on her empty pillow.

"Get down here." He ordered gruffly, his eyes remaining closed. "Now."

She didn't mind that she obeyed him without a second thought.

* * *

"Tequila is the best remedy for a hangover."

"Tequila is why we're hung over to begin with."

"This is a wedding."

"Shouldn't we at least pretend to be sober?"

Dean shrugged, knocking back his shot while pressing hers in her hand. "We're the only reason this wedding is going on without problems. Drink up."

Hesitantly, Jane took the shot, and winced, shaking her head. She served drinks and worked in a bar, she wasn't a drinker, not really. Not until last night at least, but last night had called for getting totally smashed. Now that she thought about it, and the whole ghost thing, getting smashed might also be on tonight's agenda.

Dean grinned when she poured their next round. "Hell yeah, baby." He toasted her.

She returned his smile, uncertain if she liked being called baby any more than she had sweetheart. He had taken up 'baby' last night… no, it wasn't preferable. She didn't like either, but try telling him that. Her thoughts were broken when the mother of the bride appeared. "Um, yes?"

Dean looked back and forth between the women, frowning slightly. The mom was speaking rapidly and Jane looked mildly confused. "What's going on?"

"I think… I think we're being stolen."

"What? Why?"

"Not sure, but we're being nominated to replace the best man and a bridesmaid…"

Dean reached for the half empty bottle and took a long pull from it before passing it to her. She did the same. "Don't suppose rock salt would work on them, do you?"

"I think I need another drink."

* * *

"…Mr. and Mrs. Winchester…" The padre looked at the very inebriated couple standing before him, both of them giggling like little children as the reception went on behind them. "You may now kiss-" He shook his head when the last minute groom claimed his suddenly blushing bride's lips.

Valeria, the actual bride of this reception, let out a wolf whistle.

That had been some great tequila.


	5. Envelope

**Envelope**

The rest of the night passed in interesting time spurts. It would speed up and then slow down. There was dancing, and more tequila, and a brief talk about the inevitability of another hangover. Then there was more dancing, which was more like sex standing up because they found they couldn't keep their hands off of each other, their hips from grinding, or their hands from roaming.

Neither stopped to think about how strange it was, how odd. How they were both acting so… unlike themselves, they just acted.

Jane didn't think about how she was eventually going to get back home. Or what on earth she would tell her parents. She didn't think if they were missing her, or if maybe she should finally call and let them know she was still breathing.

Dean didn't think about how he was an idiot. He had used his real name, his real information, and his dad was going to kill him. He didn't want to think about any of that, even if it were possible with her tiny, warm hands down at his zipper. "Best take this to our room, baby."

She nodded, letting him grab her hands in his and lead the way.

Once in the privacy of his, their, room, her hand was right back at his zipper and this time, Dean let her tug it down. He was busy divesting her of the lurid pink monstrosity she had been forced to don for her role as bridesmaid. He had been able to scrape buy with borrowed black slacks and a white dress shirt, neither fit him properly.

"Slow down baby, we have all night…" He murmured, stopping her from pushing down the slacks, mildly impressed with his control. "All night…"

Jane stared up at him, her lower lip caught in her teeth and nodded, smiling slightly.

* * *

"Son of a bitch…" He whispered first thing the next afternoon. The paper was in his hands, he had found an envelope under their door when he had woken up, and their marriage thing was inside. He hadn't hidden anything, this was bad. Dean wondered if he would be able to get a hold of any copies before they were sent off, or… whatever happened to them.

Raking a hand through his already tousled hair, he turned back to look at his bride. His bride… his hangover seemed to intensify at the thought. How drunk had he been? "I'm so screwed…" He muttered, burying his face in his hands for a moment.

Her contented sigh caused him to look up and he stepped towards the bed. The afternoon sun was pouring in through the open curtains, and he was honestly surprised she hadn't been woken up by it. She was wrapped in the sheet, very naked beneath it, and his lips curved into a grudging smile. Bits and pieces of the night flashed through his mind, how eager she had been, and how she had felt in his arms, coming undone over and over…

And he had to leave before he crawled back in that bed with her. She'd figure out how to end this marriage, this sham, this mistake. Jane was a smart girl. She probably didn't remember what they had done, she had been so damn drunk, but the certificate was pretty self-explanatory. She'd be mortified, think she was an idiot, or that he was a perverted bastard –which he could be-, and file for divorce. Or maybe annulment, could they do that? Not his problem, it was hers now. He had to go. His time was up.

He dressed and gathered his things quietly, leaving the envelope on the nightstand beside the bed.

* * *

Jane woke up to the desk clerk bustling about the room, frowning as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Her head was throbbing again, and it wasn't the only part of her throbbing. Groaning, she shut her eyes, listening to the noise and finally cleared her throat. At least there was a fresh breeze, Maria must have opened the window.

She was instantly bombarded with a string of words she couldn't immediately piece together due to her current state and the haze over her mind. She was trying to focus, honestly she was, but all she could really bring herself to think of was the fact that she had slept with Dean. In the Biblical sense, not the 'passed out in a towel but nothing happened' sort of way.

"Oh my God…" Another groan, followed by her forcing herself to roll out of the bed. "Dean?"

Maria tugged at her sheet, forcing Jane to give her attention.

Jane listened and then asked several times over for everything to be repeated, going numb.

Dean had checked out already.

He had left.

He had left money at the desk for her and a bus ticket home.

But he had left.

Jane went about getting dressed on automatic, her headache providing no distraction to her situation. She knew once she got past the initial hurt she would realize that this was to be expected. He, a handsome stranger had swept into her life unexpectedly, and he had swept out just as unexpectedly.

Which was stupid, because she should have expected it. They had had an interesting time together –understatement of the decade- which culminated in a night of delicious sex and he had bailed. Totally not strange, and she should have known it would happen. Men like him simply did not stay with women like her. Besides, it wasn't like she would have been able to tolerate his presence for any extended periods of time. He was a pain in her ass with a very weird hobby, or job, or whatever this ghost hunting business was.

No, this was for the best. Jane would go home, make her excuses and forget about Dean Winchester.

She nodded, affirming this decision and grabbed her stuff, sweeping out of the room.

The envelope remained where it had landed after a particularly strong gust of wind had coursed through the room… under the bed.


	6. Knowing

**A/N:** Time for a jump, and this chapter is set during season 1, at the end of episode 17: Hell House. Thanks to everyone who is following the story.

Reviews are delicious, flames are used to keep my feet warm while I write.

* * *

**Knowing**

**2006**

Sometimes, Jane hated Dean. She rarely thought about him, it had been seven years since he had left her in Mexico with nothing but a ticket home, and time eventually erased him from her immediate thoughts. But it was moments like these that she definitely remembered him and truly hated him.

Moments when she was confronted with something supernatural, and she knew it was supernatural, but she couldn't explain how. It had happened on and off, this knowing, and she blamed him. She had been perfectly oblivious to the weird things going on in this world but now… now she could recognize these happenings for what they were.

And she hated Dean for opening her eyes to it.

What she really hated him for was opening her eyes to the very strange thing she could do. Sometimes. She had always brushed it off as common sense. When he had hit that deer, it was a known fact that that road was a frequent deer crossing area, him hitting one… at the speed he had been driving… common sense. Burning that ghost, common sense, he had set out the items, she had gathered what they were intended for.

Wrong. It was Knowing. She just knew. She supposed it was some form of ESP, or some such thing, but since she never got glimpses of anything, but more of a feeling, she never really used any of those terms. Just Knowing, or common sense on maximum over drive. It wasn't something that happened frequently, but when it did occur, it generally meant something not of this world was happening around her.

She when she Knew she needed to go, she left. She didn't know where she was going, she just followed the instinct and took off. At this point, she had stopped working for her parents, who had never really forgiven her for taking off without a word and disappearing for a week. They certainly hadn't forgiven her when a year later she quit the bar and moved out, renting out a tiny unit with some people she barely knew and pursued an education at the community college.

College had worked out, and it hadn't. She had taken various courses and accumulated credits, but she had had a hard time settling on any specific degree. It didn't help that the college was local, and small, and offered next to nothing that she found particularly useful. But she was fairly educated, and had taken up a job working as a menial secretary, which was better than a bar wench. Better hours, some benefits, and somewhat better pay.

That was several years ago. She had changed jobs a few times, moved at least three times a year, and followed the Knowing whenever it decided to invade her life. She also slept with salt at her windows and doors, and she had added a sawed off shotgun to her tiny arsenal. It used slugs filled with rock salt.

Said sawed off was on the front passenger seat as she drove, enjoying the relative silence as she tried to ignore the mental tug guiding her. Her headlights flashed over the welcome sign and she slowed down, reading it. Welcome to Richardson, Texas. The tug was stronger now, and she knew she was going where she was supposed to.

This was his fault.

Oh yes, there were times when she really, really hated Dean Winchester.

* * *

_Those two were idiots_, Dean thought, happy to see the wanna-be ghost hunters pulling out of the RV site, everything they owned packed in and on their piece of crap car and in their piece of crap RV. Including the dead fish he had tossed in the back window.

"Truce?"

He stared at his brother over the roof of the Impala and flashed a grin. "Yeah, truce."

Sam returned the grin.

"For the next 100 miles at least." He smirked, expecting Sam to give him one of those stupid puppy dog looks that seemed to work on everyone else, but Sam was looking behind him. Dean frowned slightly, and then snorted. "Dude, the old 'over the shoulder' thing isn't going to work on me. Step up your game."

"Uh… Dean? It's not a-"

"Sam, seriously…"

Sam just folded his arms on the roof, eyes fastened beyond Dean.

"Get in the car and-"

"Dean Winchester…"

He knew that voice… Dean turned, eyes widening at the woman standing a few feet from him. "Jane?" He finally asked, clearing the rasp from his throat with a small cough. He looked her over. Tall, pale… no longer lanky but lithe, and she did not… there was no gray uniform, or messy black, bun. She looked different. Jeans, tank top, leather jacket…. Her black hair had been cut off into something short, curling under her ears, it was… cute.

He hadn't thought about Jane in years. He hadn't ever received anything about divorce papers, but considering he didn't actually have a home address outside of a P.O. box that changed frequently he didn't really expect anything. He just assumed she had done the smart thing. He didn't bother dwelling on the fact that after all this time, after only a few interesting days together, he still remembered her voice and what she looked like. "What… how…?"

Sam had come around the car at this point and studied the woman thoughtfully. He read her body language and knew what was coming a moment before she smacked Dean right across the face.

Dean held his face, scowling. "Don't tell me you're still holding a grudge?"

She slapped him again.

Sam coughed to cover his laugh, eyes darting between the pair. "So, uh, Jane?"

She nodded, looking like she might hit Dean at least one more time.

"How do you… know Dean?" That was lame, how did any woman know Dean? Sam shook his head, ignoring the look Dean was giving him.

"He kidnapped me, took me to Mexico, and then abandoned me there." Jane said, sounding rather calm about it.

"It's been… like… seven years, you can't still-"

She got him a third time.

"You know," Sam coughed again, trying his hardest not to smile too openly. "I like her."

"God Jane, you hell bitch…" Dean cursed, catching her hand before she could nail him again and twisted her arm until her back was against his chest. "Enough."

And it was like Mexico all over again, him growling out orders that she mindlessly seemed to obey.

Dean had never really considered himself a controlling, dominant man, excluding hunts and whatnot. Not with women, not generally. Sometimes the occasion called for it, and sometimes it was just that kind of sex, but with Jane… even after all these years, it just came natural. "Good girl." He murmured, letting go of her arm.

Sam winced when she brought her elbow back, right into Dean's gut. "You kidnapped her?"

Jane stepped away from Dean, before he could pull that growly, commanding stunt again, her mouth turned down into a frown. "If I would've known this is what I was coming for, I would have just dealt with the stupid headache!"

"Dude, kidnapped?!"

"I didn't kidnap her!"

She arched an eyebrow.

"Technically."


	7. Married

**Married**

"How did you two even meet?"

"No, forget that, I want to know why you're here."

Jane looked back and forth between the brothers. They didn't really look that much alike. They did have one common theme: they were both gorgeous. Dean was gorgeous… his looks were more… chiseled, more defined, and she was not thinking those thoughts. Nope. Sam was easy on the eyes as well, taller than Dean, and while he had a pleasant smile, he struck her as the more serious of the pair.

"Earth to Jane." Dean snapped his fingers under her nose.

Blinking, she leaned away from him, frowning. "Don't."

"Why are you here?" He asked again, ignoring Sam's dark look as he stared down at her. They had retreated back to the motel and rented anther room, something he had had no intention of doing. They were supposed to be gone by now. She was currently sitting on one of the beds, Sam on the other, and he was standing in between them. "Hell, how'd you even find me?"

"Trust me, I wasn't actually looking for you." Which was true, _she_ hadn't been, her common sense on speed ability had been. "If I would've known I was going to run into you, I would have-"

"Taken the headache." Sam finished for her, looking curious. "What's that mean?"

"Nothing." She wasn't about to tell either of them about her minor little ability. "Just… God, I'm leaving." She pushed herself off the bed.

Dean promptly pushed her right back down. "You can leave in the morning."

"Don't you-"

"All right you two." Sam stood up, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders and gently nudging him away. "Jane, please, spend the night and drive in the morning. We can get you a room-"

"I have my own money."

"Wait- no reunion?" Dean grinned, dropping down across from her on what he was now deeming Sam's bed. "No sweet hellos?"

"You want me to bitch smack you again?"

"How'd you two meet?"

"At a bar." They both answered.

Sam covered a smile. "You know, I think I'll run across the street and grab us some supper." He was already moving for the door. "Burgers all around, yeah?" And then he was out the door, before either could say anything.

Dean gave it a few moments before asking again. "Why are you here, Jane?"

"I don't know." She folded her arms over her chest, staring at him. "I just drove and wound up here."

"That's one hell of a coincidence, don't you think?"

She shrugged.

"Janey… sweetheart-"

"_Don't_ call me that."

"Obviously, you're here for a reason." His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered all possibilities before finally grinning. "Bringing me my divorce papers? It took you long enough."

Jane's gray eyes widened for a moment. "Your what?"

"My divorce papers, a copy of them." Why was he explaining what she should already know? "Seven years is a long time, baby, but even I didn't forget."

Jane was silent, racking her brain. She had replayed everything she remembered from that night a lot at first, trying to piece together what she remembered while vowing to never get that drunk again. She knew she had been a bridesmaid, and Dean had been in the groom's party. She knew they had been celebrating taking care of a… a ghost, of all things, and she knew they had drank more tequila than was legal.

Those things she knew. Other things, such as standing before the priest, laughing and kissing, those things she figured were drunk hallucinations, or confused memories, brought on by way too much to drink.

"We really got married?" She asked quietly, not looking up at him.

"We really got married." He confirmed, beginning to frown. "I left the marriage certificate on the nightstand Jane, so you could go get a divorce or something. It was a mistake, a drunken mistake, should've never happened."

"We got married."

"Yes…" She hadn't remembered, and Dean felt panic beginning to well inside his chest. "Jane, you… you had a lot to drink but- You remembered, right?"

She shook her head no.

"But you found the paper, you did, didn't you?"

Another shake of her head.

Now he felt sick.

"We were drunk, and got married."

"Son of a bitch!"

* * *

Jane felt like she was going to throw up. After accepting reality, and the fact that those tequila hallucinations were in fact an actual occurrence, she had hauled her cookies to the bathroom. Her stomach was heaving but she was fighting it, trying to keep her head clear. She failed and reached the toilet in time to start with the dry hurling.

She could hear Dean pacing and cursing out in the room, mentally echoing the sentiments. All this time, seven years, and they had been married. She could have inadvertently messed up something in her life because she was an idiot. What if she had gotten into a serious relationship with someone? What if she had had kids? Obviously, neither had occurred, but what if?

And she didn't know anything really about Dean, besides the fact that he used too, maybe still did, hunt ghosts. What if he was a murderer or something? They had joked about it before, but what if it was true?

She jumped when Dean pounded his fist against the door.

"Come on Jane, we got to talk."

No, they had to get divorced. Fast.

* * *

Dean was tempted to pick the lock and open the door himself but instead retreated, giving her space. That and it sounded like something had hit the toilet, he wasn't about to walk in on something gross. God, how did the woman not remember something like marriage? Wasn't that a chick thing? He knew he hadn't totally forgotten because there was always a subconscious fear lurking that his dad might one day find out just how stupid he had been.

Speaking of John… he could never find out about Jane. Which meant neither could Sam, outside of what he knew. Nobody could ever know. Hell, he was wanted for murder –and various other things-, now that it was known he wasn't as dead as he should have been. It was only a matter of time before she got dragged into that.

She had to go.


	8. Orders

**Orders**

"Where's Jane?"

"Got her own room."

Frowning, Sam used his foot to shut the door behind him. "I brought her something to eat." He held out his hands, one balancing a carrier with drinks, the other fisting two bags of what promised to be something deliciously greasy.

Dean, who had been lying on his bed, sat up. "Since when do you like any of my women?"

"I liked Cassie."

He winced. "Don't uh, don't mention Cassie to Jane, okay?"

"Is Jane going to be sticking around then?"

"God, I hope not." Talk about a barrel of drama he just did not need. He tried picturing Jane and Cassie meeting, suppressing a shudder at the thought. That just didn't work out so well for him, no matter what scenario he tried picturing.

"I'm going to take her some food."

Dean was off the bed. There was no way he was leaving his brother alone with his wife.

* * *

Jane was on her laptop. She had grabbed her crap from the trunk of her car, weaponry included, and made herself comfortable in her home for the night. She had every intention of finding out how to do this divorce thing, informing Dean, and heading back home in the morning. She just had to remember the name of the town they had been in when they'd done the incredibly stupid deed.

"It's open." She called when she heard the knock on the door, not surprised when Sam, trailed by Dean, entered.

"You should keep that locked, Jane." Dean said flatly, demonstrating with a very audible click as he locked the door behind him. "Never know who might walk in."

"Just you two. Fix my salt."

Sam and Dean both looked down, they had trudged up the salt she had laid at the door.

"That's my girl." Dean chuckled, trying and failing to suppress a grin. He gave the room a thorough look over. Salt at the windows too. She had learned something from him, besides his name. That was impressive. "Any other habits you picked up?"

"Rock salt slugs."

"Traded in that 9 of yours then?"

"Just added a shitty sawed off to my tiny collection." She had returned her stare to her laptop screen. "Dean, what was that town's name?"

"Hell if I know." He dropped down on the bed beside her, trying to ignore his brother's presence as Sam went about setting out 'dinner' on the small table off against the far wall. "What are… oh." He inclined his head towards hers. "Can't you do this another time, baby?"

"No, and don't call me-"

"Baby." He shut the lid to the laptop. "Do it later."

She really hated it when he gave orders.

Worse when she followed them.

* * *

"How'd you get in here?"

"Swiped your key from the front desk."

"Mmm…. Get out." She heard the rustling of sheets and a slight draft on her back and legs before his body blocked the chill. "Dean…"

He draped his arm over her waist, drawing her back against him before arranging the blankets over them both. "Just… go back to sleep, Jane."

She was quiet for a long moment, and he had almost fallen asleep when he heard her whisper: "Are you going to be gone when I wake up?"

He inhaled deeply, burying his face in her hair. "God knows I should be… but I won't. I'll be here."

"Okay."

* * *

He wasn't gone. Jane could only stare down at the still sleeping Dean. He looked so… peaceful, when he was asleep, and younger. Though he was only a year or so older than she was, he had a look about him, like he didn't truly relax all that often.

It was probably petty that she was fixing to leave him, without a word, while he was still snoozing in her bed. But she couldn't see any reason to stay, even if she really wanted too. Which, she didn't. She had a life going on back home, and she couldn't imagine why she would want to mix it up with Dean Winchester again. The last time had landed her a tequila hang over that damn near killed her, some great sex, a murderous ghost, and apparently a husband who had wed, bed and fled her.

Nah, no reason to get mixed up in all that.

"Put the bag down and get back in bed."

"No."

"Janey, considering this will probably be the last time we ever see each other, I think you can spare another hour and come back to bed."

She groaned, slowly letting the strap slide from her slack fingers until it dropped to the floor. "One hour, Dean."

"You're my wife, you'll give me all damn day if I want you too."

"Yeah, moment's over Dean, I'm leaving."

He was out of bed before she could pick up the bag again, pinning her against the door with his body, elbows braced on either side of her head. "Why'd you even stay the night, Jane?" He asked softly, his hazel eyes appearing green as they searched hers.

"I was tired, Dean."

"Yeah," He scoffed, stepping back from her. "Tired. Figure out that town yet?"

"No. Why don't you remember? You're the one who took us there."

He shrugged. "Must be _tired_."

"You're a dick, Winchester."

"Thank you, Mrs. Winchester." He smirked at her exasperated groan. "Now… get back in bed."

* * *

She was an idiot. Such a freaking idiot. Jane rolled out of bed later that morning, ignoring the way too contented smile on Dean's face. "Why didn't I think of this before?" She asked herself, going to her laptop.

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to watch as she set up shop. It was like watching Sam when it came to his research, only Jane was definitely much better looking in her underwear. "What'd you forget?"

"My social security number. I'll just run a background check on myself, it should say if we're married, where we got married at, all that fun stuff."

"That's a great idea, sweetheart." Minus the part where she'd probably get some alert she was married to a homicidal maniac and then the authorities would wind up at the door. Totally great idea. "I'm going to go check in with Sam. See me before you leave."

"Uh, sure."


	9. Goodbye

**Goodbye**

"Sammy, I have a problem."

"You're not kidding; laundry hasn't been done in like… weeks." Sam said, sounding disgusted as he searched for a pair of socks that had some white left to them. "If this is what mine looks like, I don't even want to imagine _yours_."

"Dude, I'm serious." Dean ignored the bag of dirty clothes that were tossed at him, sidestepping out of the way as he headed for the bathroom. "I need you to help me."

"With what?" Sam tossed aside the socks in question, wondering if he had a pair of sandals. Who needed socks? "Maybe we should just throw everything out and start over. Buy new stuff. It might be cheaper than trying to save some of this… healthier too."

"Sam, I need help divorcing my wife."

"These boxers could be toxic."

"But neither of us could remember that stupid town, and now she's looking it up with her social. Which means she's going to probably get smacked in the face with the knowledge she's married to a wanted murderer."

"Your boxers are definitely toxic, Jesus, Dean…"

"And if dad finds out, he'll probably kill me. If Jane doesn't first."

"Why would dad kill you?"

Dean groaned, giving serious thought to punching Sam's overly large head. "Did you not hear anything I just said?"

"No."

"I'm screwed. Just… bury me now. She's going to find out any minute now… and-"

"I can't pronounce it, but I found it!" Jane had just burst in, a scrap of paper in her free hand. With her not free hand, she was tugging up her jeans. "If I'm lucky, we'll be divorced real damn soon."

Sam dropped the laundry he had been about to label nuclear waste. "What?!"

"Jane!"

She finished buttoning her pants before folding her arms over her chest. "You didn't tell him?"

"Obviously!"

"Wait… you two-" Sam raked a hand through his hair, looking back and forth between the glaring couple. "Married? Seriously?"

"Well, not for long. I'm filing for divorce." Jane informed him, ignoring Dean's muttered 'shut up'. "Apparently we've been married for seven years. I knew there was a reason I don't drink tequila."

"Jane, shut up! Sam, I can explain this-"

"How Dean?" Sam dropped down on the end of his neatly made bed, not entirely sure how to even begin wrapping his mind around this. "You've been married for… seven years? Seven? You were only twenty, and… and when would you even have time to-"

"You and dad went on that trip." Dean sighed, knowing the cat was out of the bag. "I was supposed to be doing five states in five days…"

"And instead you were doing Jane."

"Hey!" Jane was tempted to throw something at the younger Winchester, her brother-in-law, something heavy preferably. "That's not true!"

"Entirely," Dean amended, unable to keep a grin off his face. "We spent more time out of bed then in it."

She picked up the nearest item, which was an unused plastic ashtray, and hurled it at Dean's head.

He cursed when it got him. "Damn it, Jane!"

"Don't be such a jerk, Dean." Sam moved to run interference when it looked like the oh-so-happily married couple were about to get face to face in a decidedly non-kissy way. "I'm guessing this wasn't a, uh, planned marriage?"

"Man, we were so drunk, I'm surprised we even made it back to our hotel room without getting lost, robbed or arrested."

She had to agree with that one.

Sam was still having a hard time with this. "And you… forgot to tell us?" Obviously, not true, but…

"No man, I didn't forget… well, I mean, I did eventually. But I just assumed she'd file for divorce and it'd be done. I didn't realize she wouldn't find the marriage certificate… or forget."

"I had had a lot of tequila, Dean." Jane said dryly.

"Sweetheart, you damn near drank me under the table." He smirked, pushing Sam out of his way as he moved towards her. "So, about that divorce?"

"I'll file as soon as I get home, got an address?"

"I have a P.O. box."

"That'll work."

Sam was shaking his head, slightly disturbed by the exchange. "You two have problems."

* * *

"Well, I guess this is it."

Jane nodded, throwing her bag into the backseat of her car. "Yeah, I guess so." She made sure everything was in its place before straightening up, looking at him thoughtfully. "I can't decide if I'm glad I met you or pissed about it."

"Well…" He smiled, reaching out to finger her bobbed hair. "For what it's worth, I really like your hair."

That brought a smile to her own face and she shook her head. "Always with the jokes, yeah?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat, letting his hand drop to dangle uselessly at his side. "You should probably get going, sweetheart. We're hitting the road, things to do, demons to slay… you know how it is."

"I know, I wish I didn't, but I know." She took his hand, smiling shyly. "Be safe, Dean. And… try not to marry anymore girls, or at least do it sober."

"Nah, you're it for me, Janey. My one and only." Now he was definitely teasing her and was rewarded with a gentle squeeze. "Alright, enough of this sentimental crap. Go on and divorce me, find a good man and have like, two or three kids."

"Uh yeah, no." Jane pulled away, rolling her eyes. "I think I've had enough of men, like… seven years worth."

"Low blow, I'm the best damn husband a girl could hope for. Don't ask for nothing but sex and then go my merry way."

"This is true." She chuckled, now palming her car keys. "As fun as this has been Dean, it's time for me to go. I hope you won't take offense if I said I hope I never see you again."

"Nah, I don't think I would, Janey." He stepped up to her, raising his hands to cup her face. "Now give me one last kiss and get the hell out of my life."

Smirking, she pressed her lips to his chin.

Well that was just shit and he gave her a real kiss, one she wasn't likely to forget this time, and for some God forsaken reason, he already knew it was seared in his mind. "Goodbye Jane."

"Goodbye Dean."


	10. Widower

**I feel like I should put a spoiler alert here or something as this part takes place during the last episode from season 1. Anything vaguely familiar is taken from the show, mostly based on my memory and the Supernatural Wikis. **

* * *

**Widower**

No sooner had Bobby said 'something's wrong' then the door had flown open and Meg walked in, looking peeved. Dean had started uncapping his flask but she waved him aside.

"No more crap, okay."

He smashed into one of the many stacks of books Bobby had all over the place, and he swore he felt his brains rattling around inside his skull.

Sam moved in front of Bobby.

Dean listened as Meg went off on her little rant, watching as she stalked the retreating Sam and Bobby as he got to his feet.

"…with you two chuckleheads. Lackluster men. But I do my homework and-" She held out a hand.

Dean's eyes widened as Jane literally came flying through the open door and collided with a wall.

"Dean is about to become a widower on top of an orphan."

He forced himself to not move, to wait.

"…did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

Relief coursed through him.

* * *

Jane had filed for divorce. She had done all the paperwork herself after researching and a very brief consultation with a lawyer. After the consultation, she figured there was no point in spending a bucket load of money on a clean cut divorce. It wasn't like they had kids, or assets, or… anything really.

She had gone to file the papers, and wound up distracted by a blonde on the sidewalk outside her apartment. Her Knowing had kicked in and Jane had tried to play it off, uncertain what the deal was, but feeling it in her gut. There was something wrong with this… woman.

Filing had completely gone to hell.

Unconsciousness had been her friend on and off while this Meg transported her, and Meg was not a pleasant person at all. Jane hadn't been overly surprised to find out that Meg wasn't an actual person. Meg was a literal monster of some kind, wearing a skin suit, who liked knives and had contemplating 'making a call' on several occasions.

Making a call had never sounded so terrifying before.

What hadn't surprised her in the least was the fact that this was related to the Winchesters. From her last night with Dean, she had gathered what it was he and his brother did for a living –if it could be called that-, the same thing Dean had been doing when she had first met him. She bet the insurance sucked and benefits were next to nothing.

Jane had been sort of conscious when she had gone through the door, awake enough to feel pain coursing through her arms from her wounds. And then she had hit something at high speed and that was it.

Until now.

"Don't move."

That was Sam, and her eyelids reluctantly fluttered open. "Where'm I?" She mumbled, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth.

"Not in Texas." He eased an arm under her, gently guiding her into a sitting position while raising a glass of water to her lips. He watched as she took a slow sip, turning to shake his head at Dean who simply nodded. "What do you remember?"

"Going to file, she was there." Jane shut her eyes again. "Not right… she's not right."

Sam hesitated. She had been a demon in a girl's body, a girl they hadn't been able to save, and he felt the failure weighing on him. Just like he knew Dean was. "You're safe now, Jane."

"Safe…"

* * *

"Widower?" Bobby demanded out in the kitchen, throwing a dish towel at Dean.

Dean made up an ice pack, not meeting the older man's incredulous gaze. "Best if you don't ask."

"Well son, bit late for that, don't you think? That girl your wife?"

"Bobby, it's complicated. I don't know how Meg found out about her but-"

"But nothing. If one demon can find her, so can any other." Considering what a mess Dean and his family seemed to be in, taking a wife was just… stupid. "Does she even know about you?"

"Course she knows." Dean looked indignant. "I took her on her first hunt."

"You… did what? Idjit, you don't take civilians hunting with you!"

"I don't have time for this." Dean stormed out of the kitchen. After saying goodbye not so long ago, Dean figured he'd finally heard the last of Jane. He had worried about her finding out about him, what he hadn't banked on was anyone finding out about her. "Here, I got her. Just… go get around, we have to leave soon." He ordered, nudging Sam with his knee.

"Dean, she might need medical attention." Sam said flatly, having worked off her denim jacket when he seen the light staining. Beneath the sleeves, her arms were nothing but open wounds and nasty scabs. "Some of this looks infected."

"Here." A bottle of whiskey appeared over Dean's shoulder, followed by towels. "I got some antibiotics around here. Might be expired, but they'll do her fine."

"Thanks Bobby." Dean settled himself on the floor, gathering her in his lap. "I got this. Now go get ready, Sammy."

Sam nodded once before walking away, Bobby trailing after him.

"Janey, sweetheart, you're going to hate me in a minute." He murmured, eyeballing her arms.

"Why?"

Oh balls, she was awake, and he inwardly cursed. "Hold still."

A moment later that proved to be difficult because she was screeching like a banshee and thrashing against him as whiskey and blood poured down her arms. She was crying like a bitch and didn't care because of how bad it hurt, and Jane desperately wished to relapse into nothingness again. When the worst of it had passed, she was left gasping in broken, rasping sobs, clinging to him only because her fingers had formed a death lock on his shirt.

"Janey, you're going to stay here with Bobby." He said quietly, trying to get her to focus on his face. "You can't leave sweetheart, not until this is over. Jane, you understand?"

She managed a nod.

"I'll be back, all right?" That wasn't actually something he could guarantee but he didn't feel bad for lying. If he didn't make it back, she'd be a widow herself, and safe. He hoped.


	11. Air

**Air**

Jane stared at the Impala, or what was left of it and privately agreed with Bobby's opinion. There was no way of fixing it. She wrapped her bandaged arms around herself, trying to look anywhere but at Sam. If he looked this bad, she could only imagine Dean.

From what Bobby had told her once he had gotten off the phone with Sam, Dean was… dying. She wasn't sure what she was feeling. She barely knew the guy. Sure, she was still married to him, but what she knew of him could fill a thimble. But she didn't want him to die, and the thought of it actually made her chest tighten.

If this was what she was feeling, she could only imagine Sam's pain. It was in his tone, his posture, the way his eyes were on fire as he argued with Bobby about fixing the Impala, and she knew it went beyond the totaled car.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a familiar pull, and she stifled a groan. Bobby was reviewing a list of items Sam apparently wanted and looked skeptical. But the pull was directing her towards Sam, who was probably ready to get back to the hospital.

She needed to go with him.

* * *

Jane lingered in the hallway, listening as Sam and his father –John- argued. She poked her head past the doorframe, wanting to get a look at her father-in-law, the man Dean said would kill him, and wasn't surprised to find he was as good looking as his boys. Or that he was just as banged up.

The tug happened again, and she frowned, wondering what the hell she was supposed to be following. There was something, she could feel it, the Knowing was prodding at her, trying to either give her a migraine or understanding and she wished this semi-psychic crap came with a user guide.

* * *

"Goddamn it Jane, look at me!" Of all the people to walk in those doors with Sammy, his wife was not who he had been expecting. She still looked a bit rough around the edges, and under her sweater, he could make out the bulkiness of her probably still bandaged arms. Why was she here?

Dean rubbed his forehead, tempted to try swatting her upside her head. She was frowning, looking around as if trying to find something. "I'm right here Jane, for Christ's sake, _see_ me."

And she looked directly at him.

"Dean?" She whispered, sounding uncertain.

"Yes!"

"I'm insane…" She shook her head. "Talking to air…"

"Crap."

* * *

"Who is she?"

Jane shrank away from the fire in John's eyes, glancing at Sam for help. Sam wasn't even looking at her. He was just staring at his father, his face unusually pale. Dean's heart had stopped, and that was the longest period of her life, waiting in agony to see if he would die or if the doctors could get him going again.

She had felt it again, that damn tug, and she was sure Sam had felt something then too. But as quickly as it had been there, it was gone.

And now she was being advanced upon by John, feeling like he might just crush her.

"Dad, she's fine, she's not a demon!" Sam finally stepped in, moving to shield Jane.

"How can you be sure? It wouldn't be the first time they used a pretty face to-"

"Because we've already checked, and she's Dean's wife!"

John froze.

* * *

After hearing the shortened version, and there wasn't all that much to edit, of how Jane and Dean had met and gotten drunkenly hitched, all John could do was shake his head as he stared at the daughter-in-law he hadn't been aware of. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess."

She shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. "Thanks."

"It felt like Dean was there."

And all eyes were on Sam.

"Like, just out of eyeshot, but there." Sam looked hopeful. "Is that even possible?"

"Anything is, but-"

"I felt it too." She almost wished she hadn't said anything when it was her turn to get stared at. "I- I feel him, sometimes."

"What are you?" John demanded, sounding suspicious all over again.

"Apparently unemployed, a wife, and mildly psychic." That was the first time she had acknowledged it outside her own mind and she was shocked with herself. But… it was also a relief, even it was going to land her in the nuthouse if anyone who was actually normal –and where were the normal people these days?- found out.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't like him, she was too old for one, but somehow, it wasn't surprising that of all the women to pick, Dean got the one who was 'special'. "Psychic how?" He asked, before John could.

"Like, I get feelings. Or I just _know_ something, it doesn't happen very often, or it didn't. When I'm around Dean, it seems to go into over drive, probably because you guys are um, well… you're Hunters, that what he called it, right?"

John nodded slowly.

"Or it happens when something dangerous might happen." She remembered when deer had hit that deer way back when, not mentioning it because John probably wouldn't take kindly to the news. He, so far, seemed to be taking all of this in stride, and that was mildly alarming.

"Seven years is a long time to go without seeing someone." He said, stating the very obvious. "And you didn't remember marrying him?"

"No." She remembered other parts of that night, mostly bedroom related. "Well, yes, sort of. But I thought it was a dream or something. I had… drank, a lot."

"And now you're getting a divorce?"

"I was, but with everything that happened, there isn't much point until… well…" She fell silent. There might not be any reason for a divorce. She might wind up a widow within the next few hours.

What was left unsaid seemed to hang in the air and Sam shifted from foot to foot. "Well, if Dean's hanging around, then there's one way to find out." He started for the door.

"Sam,"

He paused.

"I won't go hunting for the demon." John promised. "Not until I know Dean's going to be okay."

"He will." Sam said, with more confidence then he felt. "I'll be back."

* * *

"Dean's awake, John's in there with him."

Jane sat up in the uncomfortable waiting room chair that she had managed to curl herself into, wiping sleep snot from her eyes as her brain tried to process what Sam was saying. "He's awake?" She echoed, coughing to clear her throat. "That's great, Sam."

"Yeah." Sam smiled, looking like a weight had been lifted off his chest. "I came down to get some coffee, and get you. Figured you might like to see him."

She nodded, gingerly easing herself out of the chair and stretched, trying to ease the stiffness in her limbs. She could barely recall coming down here. She had been sitting with Dean last night and Sam had come in, telling her to go try to sleep. She hadn't figured she actually would, sleep seemed like it would never grace her with its presence again. Surprise, surprise.

As they walked, they lapsed into silence, Sam sporting a tiny smile and she was just trying to wake up completely.

The silence was broken by a gasp, and the cup hitting the floor.

All oxygen was sucked from the air as she stared past a frantic Sam.


	12. Anger

**Anger**

"I swear to God Jane, if he asks me one more time, I'm going to knock his teeth down his throat."

Jane sat on what remained of a hood to one of the many junkers in Bobby's personal car part Heaven, watching as Dean worked on the Impala. Ever since the boys had buried John, or burnt him because apparently that was what Hunter's did, Dean had been working on his beloved car nonstop.

Bobby and Sam were both worried about him, and to be honest, so was she. But she didn't know what to say, she barely knew Dean, and she sure as hell knew nothing about John. What little she did know had been from their brief meeting and the tiny tidbits Bobby had thrown her way.

She had mentioned returning home only once, and that had gotten her some insults on top of explanations as to why she couldn't. It had been decided, without her consent, that the best place for her to stay at the moment, was with Bobby. Bobby didn't seem all that thrilled with the idea of having a strange woman underfoot, but he had reluctantly agreed.

He had also laid down some ground rules. She wasn't to attempt cleaning his mess; he liked his shit where it was. She wasn't to go snooping around the house, there were dangerous items all over and he wasn't going to be scraping her ass off walls if she touched the wrong thing. So long as she minded her own business, they'd get along fine. Yeah… right.

Her first night in the house, Bobby had designated what was to be her room for her stay and mumbled something about taking her to town to pick up whatever she needed in the way of feminine items. He had nearly blushed, and he had definitely been awkward, if she had been in her usual mood, she would have teased him. As it was, she just didn't have the heart and had simply thanked him.

Dean had come into the room that night. He hadn't said anything; he had just climbed in bed and pulled her into his arms. Neither of them had spoken. He just held her until he fell into a fitful half-sleep and she had allowed him, dozing very little that night.

The sleeping arrangements had continued and nobody had said anything about it.

During the day, this was what he did. At night he'd come in and eat whatever was handy, drink and ignore the looks he was given from his brother. Then when he couldn't tolerate the looks, or the questions and concern, he'd tell Jane it was time for bed, and she'd follow him upstairs.

She felt a bit like a dog to be honest.

She spent her days either outside with him, just watching and listening to him rant when he felt like it, or inside with Sam and Bobby. More often than not, she was outside, she felt less like an intruder that way.

"He's worried Dean." She said softly, shifting to a bit of a more comfortable position and folded her legs beneath her. "He can't help it."

"Well, he needs to stop worrying about me and worry about his own damn self." Dean snarled, shooting her a look over her shoulder, like this was all her fault. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Listening to you bitch."

Growling, he dropped his wrench and turned towards her, fire flashing in what were definitely green eyes. "Nobody asked you to be here, Jane." He said angrily, covering ground until he was standing in front of her. "What makes you think you're even wanted?"

She knew instinctively he was lashing out because she was the most convenient choice, the nearest person, and one who if he hurt, well… She knew where she ranked in this little set-up they had going. He was pissed with Sam, but he didn't want to hurt Sam, not really. "Send me away then." She challenged quietly, knowing why she was taking the brunt of his anger but not about to just lie down and accept it either.

His eyes flashed and his dirty, greasy hands were on her legs, drawing them out so he could pull her towards him. With her legs soon wrapped around his waist, he wasted little time in pulling the rest of her flush against him and claiming her lips in an angry kiss.

Her hands went to his chest, as if she would push him away, and that was what she had intended to do, but instead she was pulling him closer, if that were possible. His hand was in her hair, and she could smell sweat, oil, and dirt, it was enveloping her. His other hand was now tugging on the waist of her pants, and she pulled away. "No."

Dean hesitated, knowing if he dropped an order, she would probably follow it. She wasn't a push-over, but she did have a thing for letting him take over. They both had some dom/sub issues that were never going to be addressed. "Jane…"

"Not out here."

* * *

If Bobby knew what they had done in his shower, he wasn't saying anything. He just grunted when they came downstairs, her hair still wet, his slightly spiked as he finger combed it dry. Sam looked up from the couch, where he was browsing through one of the many old, musty books Bobby had laying around. His eyes took in Dean before moving over Jane, one eyebrow rising.

She just stared right back at him, her chin out, daring him to say something. This was just a giant messed up situation, and they all knew it. She didn't belong there and the only reason she was… well, apparently she was a means to torment Dean. She was also a great stress relief apparently.

Dean looked away from his brother and reached down to take her hand, leading the way to the kitchen. "You need to eat something."

"So do you."

His response was to let go and retrieve himself a beer, making what he intended for his meal quite clear.

"Dean… that's not food."

"Shut up, sweetheart. Make yourself a sandwich or something."

"_Excuse me_?"

Bobby and Sam were slowly gravitating towards the kitchen.

"You're going to eat, Winchester."

"Not likely, Mrs. Winchester."

"BOBBY!"

Bobby almost actually jumped when she shrieked. "I'm right here, woman! No need to yell."

"Do you have a cast iron skillet?"

Silently, he retrieved her one.

Dean's eyes widened when she began advancing on him.

"So help me God, you will _eat_ and if you give me anymore shit I will shove this pan up your arrogant ass!"

That was Bobby and Sam's cue to leave, neither about to get involved in a marital dispute.


	13. Realization

**Realization**

"Want to tell me how this happened?"

"No."

Jane didn't push it, just cleaned Dean's hands with the peroxide she had bought. After her own incident with the whiskey sanitizer, she had insisted Bobby have actually keep stuff on hand that wasn't going to set fire to the blood or destroy the good cells while it cleaned out the nasty stuff. He and Sam had just gotten back from a hunt today, and she had spent the few days alone with the "retired" old hunter.

Bobby had left her alone; she had left him alone and cleaned up after herself. It had worked out fine.

Dean had gone out to work some more on the Impala, Sam had gone out, Sam had come in, Dean had come in… with a few pieces of glass in his hands. Which was why he was sitting on the toilet seat while she kneeled on the floor and tended to his hands. Something he could have done himself, but… she had actually missed him.

Stockholm Syndrome.

"You're ruining me, Janey." He informed her, smirking slightly when her head snapped up to meet his gaze. "I had a beautiful girl in front of me, and she wanted me,"

Her eyes narrowed.

"But I just didn't have it in me to even try picking her up." It wasn't all on her, a lot of it had to do with John, and Sammy. But when Jo had said she'd like to see him again, he had almost told her he was married. Instead, he had settled for a 'wrong place, wrong time' line.

"As soon as this… thing… is over, we'll be divorced and you can feel free to whore around all you want." She said in a deceptively calm voice. "Until then, don't think about getting into my bed if you're sleeping with other women."

"Jealous?"

"Concerned about STD's."

* * *

"I've been here since July, I think I deserve to get the hell out of the house."

"Janey, that's not a good idea. Bobby, tell her that's not a good idea."

"She ain't my wife." Bobby said with a carefully neutral expression, looking at Jane out of the corner of his eye. "And even if she were, I don't say no to women who swing skillets."

Jane smirked slightly before turning her attention back to Dean. "I'm here because you think the demons may use me as a way to get to you, right? Well if I'm already with you…"

"I said no, and you're no help." Dean pointed a finger at Bobby.

Bobby shrugged.

"Dean," Sam interjected, ignoring the exasperated sigh Dean let out. "It's October, she's probably going crazy here."

"Thank you!"

"Both of you, stop helping her!" Dean got to his feet, glaring at them all. "It's too damn dangerous. We have no idea where that yellow eyed son of a bitch is and if Meg knew about her, you can bet your asses he does too! She stays here!"

"The hell if I am!" Jane got to her feet too, poking him in the chest.

"Woman, don't start with me, I said no."

"So did I, I'm not staying here anymore, you can't keep me locked up like this Dean."

"You want to leave so bad?" He grabbed her by the arm. "Fine, let's go."

"Hey!" She dug her bare feet into the floor. "Dean!"

"Dean!" Sam was up as well, moving forward to help, or… something.

"Mind your own business." Dean ordered, dragging her out the front door and down into the yard. "All right sweetheart, you wanted to go, so go."

"Are you crazy!?"

"You wanted to leave, so leave!"

She flinched away from him as far as she could, his iron hold on her wrist not allowing much distance.

Dean froze when he realized she was recoiling from him, seeing a hint of fear in her gray eyes. What the hell was he doing? This wasn't him. He freaking loved women, and he was being downright abusive towards the one woman that was actually his.

She was his.

The realization swept through him and it rocked him to his core. She was _his. _He had never wanted the normal life, the family deal, that was Sam's dream, not his. But here he was, with a wife, and… she wasn't some one night stand. Hell, he had slept with Jane more times than he had ever considered sleeping with any woman. He was the love them, leave them guy. The only other woman he had wanted for more than a fling had been Cassie, and she had freaked out the minute he had let her into the wonderful world of Dean Winchester. Jane knew about it, hell, she was nearly as weird as Sammy. But she was _his_, his to protect, not this...

Jane stood there quietly, even after he had let her go and just stared at him, watching the play of emotions dance across his face. When he finally focused on her, she offered him a tentative smile. "Are you done?"

"Yeah," He choked out. "I'm done, sweetheart.

* * *

"Not a word about your psychic crap, or Sam's." Dean had instructed on the way to the Roadhouse, not overly keen on heading there. Jane he could write off as a basic psychic with some crap ability, those were a dime a dozen. Sam, not so much, and if any hunter found out… it would be open season.

Then they had actually gotten there and Dean had been worried about the fact that there were people there, which was why Jane was now sitting in the car.

"Screw this." She muttered.

* * *

_What started out as friendship, has grown stronger…_

She was going to assume the old, relatively horrible music was just a hunter thing because Dean loved this old time crap too. She scanned the bar, spotting only a few folk, and he was perched at the bar, a young blonde thing right next to him. That just… did not sit well with her. Especially after the past few days they had had, since the incident at Bobby's with him having a spaz attack. They had gotten along, and he had even let her drive the Impala, once.

Dean didn't have a very high opinion of her driving abilities.

"I could help…"

"No Jo. Besides, if I ran off with you, your mother might kill me. Hell, Jane might kill me."

Jo frowned slightly, leaning towards him. "Jane?"

"She's my-"

"I'm his wife." Jane smiled sweetly when they both turned around, nodding at the older woman she was going to venture was Ellen. She did not miss the once over she was given, or the way eyes lingered on her left hand. "Sorry honey, the car was just too hot to sit in."

"Well…" Dean smiled awkwardly, sliding off the barstool to walk over to her. "If I'd of known you'd woken up…"

"What can I say? I just love the backseat of your car."

He laughed, turning as Sam approached and slid his arm around her waist. "Do you now? We're going to test that." He murmured in her ear.

Jane really hoped her cheeks weren't red.


	14. Missed

**Missed**

Jane quickly discovered she was a bit of a liability to the brothers, and that she wasn't all that keen on being used as bait. She was fairly decent with the research thing, but Sam was better, and her Knowing flared up quite a bit, which was also useful. But unlike Sam, she didn't have special barriers protecting her mind from outside attacks.

Another issue was the sleeping arrangements. Sam and Dean had been sharing rooms, which must've been awkward given Dean's busty Asian thing; it was doubly awkward with her thrown into the mix. Especially when Dean insisted that they share a bed. She was sure Sam had spent a lot of nights staring at the wall with his back turned to them, praying they didn't do anything. Which, they didn't. That would've been awkward on top of weird. Then it was borderline iffy once she learned about how they paid for things, and there was just no way in hell she was getting mixed up with that.

What really cinched it for her though was when Dean and Sam were arrested. That had just been bad and once the whole ordeal was over, she had gone straight back to Bobby's. That had been tense. Dean had reluctantly explained the criminal charges against him, including the murder charges, and Sam had come to his defense.

So not only did they have ghosts, demons, psychics with mind control, and vampires, but also shapeshifters.

One day, she might stop being surprised. Today, she just needed some time to digest this information overload.

A lot of time.

* * *

"Woman, what are you doing?"

"I'm dusting Bobby."

"Well knock it off."

"Bobby, if you want a decent Christmas dinner, you'll let me at least clean the kitchen…" That and she felt the need to eliminate some of the dust and clutter, it was good for dealing with the fact that her kinda-sorta husband was wanted for murder. She totally believed that Dean was guilty of murder, she wouldn't bet that it had been a human though. Still... not the kind of thing a girl wanted to find out about, especially when she almost shared his last name. She had never actually changed anything over, thank God for small favors, but it wouldn't be too hard to associate her with him.

Bobby didn't know what to say to that exactly. His idea of Christmas dinner was generally burning a couple of steaks and a side of beer. "Christmas ain't for another three weeks." He said finally, gruffly.

"And it'll take at least four to get your kitchen in order." She replied sweetly. "I'm not touching the rest of the house, just the kitchen. Please? I promise to ask before I move anything."

He hesitated.

"I'll make a turkey, or ham, both if you prefer. With stuffing, and pies… candied yams, green bean casserole, buttered asparagus, fluffy dinner rolls…"

His stomach growled and Jane smiled. Victory was hers.

* * *

"Have you heard from Sam?"

Jane paused, a bit taken aback by the non-traditional greeting she had gotten when she answered the cell Dean had given her. A cell that was meant to be used only in emergencies on her end, and his end was whenever calling crossed his mind. "Uh, no… not since, the last time you called." She had briefly spoken to Sam then. She rather liked her temporary brother-in-law, he seemed sweet, a little broody at times, but sweet. "Isn't he with you?"

"No, he's not. If you hear from him, you call me, understand?"

"Dean, I-"

"Jane…"

"I understand." She sighed away from the phone. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

"No. Not right now, but I will. Eventually." He breathed heavily. "Would you believe me if I said I miss you?"

"No, not really. Would you believe me if I said I missed _you_?"

"Yeah, of course I would, I'm a missable guy."

"That's not a word Dean."

"Whatever, sweetheart. What're you wearing?"

"Dear Lord… go find some bar whore and-"

"Married man, can't do that." He interrupted, sounding both amused and irritated. "Do you really miss me, Jane?"

She considered that. "Sometimes."

"Good."

* * *

"You guys had turkey? And _ham?_ Without me?"

Bobby ignored Dean's incredulous outburst, busy frying up a few slices of the extra ham from the 'not-Christmas' dinner Jane had fixed for them. He hadn't expected the brothers to show up and she hadn't said anything. He figured it'd be best to let the woman do what she wanted since she was showing signs of cabin fever. That and… it had been a damn good meal. "Woman!"

Sam watched with raised brows as Bobby slid two slices onto one plate, a slice on the other. His head turned when he heard feet pounding down the stairs and a moment later Jane had walked in, looking fresh out of the shower. Hesitantly, he returned the smile she flashed him, unsure what Dean had told her, if anything.

"You're back!" She stood on bare tiptoes to plant a kiss on his jaw before moving to the counter.

Dean stood there, eyes narrowed. She was ignoring him. She was standing there, at the _clean_ kitchen counter, pouring coffee into the two waiting mugs. She had cooked Bobby a fricking feast while he had to suffer stale food and burnt coffee. Life was not fair. "No welcome home for me?"

She shot him a sideways look, lips pinching together. The last time she had spoken with him, he had wanted to know where Sam was. Obviously, he had found his brother and wasn't about to throw her a bone or anything. Sometimes, she really hated being a technical outsider.

Sam cleared his throat, walking over to get his own mug. "Jane, could I-"

She poured him a cup.

Bobby settled himself at the table. "You boys sure did miss out."

"Obviously. We're out there fighting and nearly dying, and you two are playing house."

"Actually, I'm playing house, he's been working." Jane said evenly, not looking up from her plate as she cut her ham into even pieces. "And this house thing is only temporary."

"Why's that?" He had retrieved himself a beer and settled himself at the table across from her.

"Because I'm going to find a job."

Sam's coffee mug froze at his lips and he set it down. "What?"

"I'm bored here, and even if he were inclined to let me, I'm not about to clean Bobby's house. I'd be worried about accidentally cursing myself. I've already gotten in touch with everyone I needed to from Texas, so… all ends are tied, and if I have to be here, I need something to do. That and you already stuck me with the poor guy, it's just cruel to ask him to support me on top of that."

"Hey, I can give you money." For some reason, the idea of her working, or needing money period didn't sit well with Dean.

"Is it _your_ money?"

Bobby and Sam both occupied themselves, Sam with a refill, Bobby with his ham.

He shrugged. "Technically. Most of the time. Sort of."

Scoffing, Jane finished what was left of her breakfast before standing up. "It's not just the money, I'd like to do something productive with my time. Something other than waiting on you to show up or call." That was _not_ bitterness in her tone.

"Aw… you did miss me."


	15. Truth

**A/N:** I apologize for the short chapters, but I find I write faster if I aim for a 1,000 words. Anything above that and suddenly I'm the world's biggest procrastinator. I try to update frequently, if that helps! But I am also a mother, full time college student, and work part time, so life is busy and short chapters are just what works for me right now.

Also, a lot of familiar stuff is taken from episodes, and I'm writing by memory and SupeWikis, so forgive anything I may have forgotten, please? LOL, also, I alter and change things around when it suits me, so don't be surprised to find things aren't exactly as they should be.

Thanks for reviewing, faving, and following, you guys fricking rock.

Reviews are awesome and flames would be used to warm my toes, they're blocks of ice.

* * *

**Truth**

"Okay, here." Dean handed the information he had written down to Jane, watching as she keyed it into the waiting web site. His eyes remained on the laptop screen, lips thinning. "Minnesota."

Jane simply nodded, closing down the laptop when he stepped away and ran a hand down her face. Sam had disappeared almost a week ago, leaving Dean frantic and her frazzled. Frazzled was actually an understatement. Once Dean had a location, he had called her and asked her to meet him. She had arrived in time to miss the action apparently because Dean had been unconscious and there was no sign of Sam.

Dean had given her a rundown of what had happened, or what he said was the rundown. She had a feeling he wasn't telling her everything, and that was quite all right with her. He had called the cell phone company and now here they were.

"So what now?" She asked quietly.

"We follow him."

* * *

Sam was possessed and the Knowing was giving her migraine. Jane struggled with the concept of her sweet if not moody brother-in-law being a demon motel. Ignoring the feeling she should be chasing after Dean, who had chased after Sam, she instead went over to untie Jo.

"Your head…" That looked painful.

"I'll live." Jo shook out of her stiff arms, looking towards the window grimly. "Come on."

Jane followed quickly, glancing down when Jo procured a cell phone. "I don't think we'll need that." She said flatly, feeling her headache beginning to recede as they walked. When Jo shot her a curious look, she shook her head, remembering at the last minute that nobody was supposed to know she was _special_. Instead, she just followed her _special_ feeling out towards the dock, both her and Jo jumping when a shot pierced the air. "Dean!"

They were outside, and there was no sign of Sam, or Dean, and her heart was doing some stupid things in her chest: like trying to jump out. She could hear Jo's slightly labored breathing as she kept pressing 'redial' on her cell.

Just as another cell sounded, her stomach lurched and she was jogging in the direction of the tug, just knowing this was the way. She was beyond trying to explain the stupid thing, she was just going to follow it from here on out. "Jo, he's here!"

* * *

"Do demons ever tell the truth?"

Dean looked away from Jane who was standing quietly beside his perch to glance at Jo, who was bandaging him up. "Sometimes, if it suits them." He grunted, wondering where she had gotten her nursing license and who had taught her the painful bedside manner she had. "Christ!"

"Shut up and let her work." Jane ordered, her pale face pinched. Blood was something she was becoming familiar with and she didn't like it. She didn't think she'd like being shot either. Silence reigned as Jo finished and then Dean disappeared to the bathroom to clean himself up. "Thanks."

"No problem." Jo was already cleaning up her own mess, discarding the bloody rags. "Beer?"

"Please." She moved behind the counter to help, accepting the beer she was passed gratefully. "Thanks."

Jo just nodded, opening her own and took a long swallow.

"Are you all right?" She had no idea how old Jo was, but honestly, she looked barely out of her teens. Except her eyes, those were adult eyes, hunter eyes, and that was just a scary thought. The idea of people being exposed to this stuff so young… She didn't want to try to imagine what it had been like for Dean and Sam when they were children.

Jo shrugged, shifting slightly so she could study the other woman. "How'd you and Dean meet, let alone marry?" She asked. "He doesn't seem the marrying type, no offense."

"He's not." None was taken. Jane knew at least two thimbles of stuff about Dean now and she definitely knew he was not the settling down, getting hitched kind of guy. Not while sober at least. "At a bar and too much partying in Mexico." She said finally, not up to recounting old history.

"Something like that." Dean had emerged and he took Jane's beer, finishing it off. "We got to hit the road, baby."

"I could help."

Jane hesitated, knowing Jo would be of more use than her. She could shoot, sure, and she got the funny butterflies that turned to killer bees in her head if she ignored it, but that was about it. Oh, and research, when Sam wasn't running around on a possession vacation.

"No." Dean stared firmly down at the little blonde. "You keep your ass here."

"But-"

"I will call your mother."

Ouch.

* * *

"She's going to watch you die!" Meg, in Sam's body, crowed, tightening her grip on Dean's throat. "You couldn't save your father, you can't save little Sammy, and you can't save her."

Dean never stopped trying to pry his brother's way to large fingers off his throat, his eyes shifting to Jane, who was lying in a heap on the floor, just outside the now broken devil's trap. She was awake, her gaze blearily fastened on him though even he could see the lights were barely on. He let out a strangled moan of pain when one hand moved from his throat to his shoulder, the same one he had been shot in, and squeezed.

"Nothing I ever do to you is going to compare to what you do to yourself." Meg chortled gleefully. "You're just beating yourself up over daddy, over maybe killing Sam…" She leaned in, in an almost confidential manner. "Just so you know, Sammy is pretty jealous Dean, I have insider knowledge."

His clenched eyes opened as she gave another painful squeeze.

"You have what he wanted, tsk tsk." She shook her, Sam's, head. "And you don't even appreciate it. But then, you don't even appreciate him either."

"Kill me or shut up!" He choked out.

She pulled back her fist, balling it. "I know, truth hurts."

Dean waited for the blow, but it never came. Bobby appeared over Meg's shoulder, a red hot fire iron in his hand and Meg suddenly screamed. Then it was over.

* * *

"Bobby, can I ask you a question?"

Bobby looked up from the charm he was making. He had already made two for the brothers, they needed them ASAP if they were going to return immediately to hunting. Now he was making one for her, not about to have another possessed woman in his house. "Hmm?" His tired eyes skimmed her. All her injuries were superficial, some bruising here and there, she'd survive it. He looked the same he was sure.

"What did that thing mean about Dean killing Sam?"

"Demons lie, Jane." It wasn't his place to tell her.

"Not if they know it will mess with a person, then they sometimes tell the truth."

Clever girl.


	16. Bobby

**Bobby**

"I don't see the point of this Bobby…" Jane's comment was greeted with a book to the back of her head and she reached back to rub the spot, shifting in her chair. "What the hell?"

"The point is, I'm not always going to be around." Bobby didn't bother pointing out the obvious concerning her MIA husband and brother-in-law, they were never around anymore. They were so busy that they hadn't been back to the house in months, though he had gone to see them once, when they were dealing with a trickster. He had left Jane home for that, not that she had been overly inclined to go anyway. "And you need to be able to protect yourself, so say it again."

Jane stifled a groan and closed her eyes, beginning to recite the Latin he had made her memorize over the past few months, teaching her how to perform an exorcism. Ever since that night in February with Meg co-opting Sam's body and beating the crap out of them all, Bobby had gotten rather… weird. Good weird, but weird. He insisted on teaching her "self-defense", which wasn't martial arts, or basics on how to take down an attacker.

No, he was giving her the crash course on how to be a hunter with the constant reminder she was never to actually go out hunting. She was to learn the knowledge and only apply it in the event she was in danger, or to keep herself out of danger.

"Better." He nodded his approval. "Now do it again."

* * *

"Dead man's blood?"

"Used to…" She had to think on this for a second. Her head was filled with fun facts, and this was just another one. "Not kill vampires but weaken them, it's like a poison."

"And how do you kill them?"

"Off with the head."

"No, _you_ don't kill them, you run."

Jane slapped herself in the face. "Fine, if a hunter is to kill a vamp, he would chop off its head. If I were to even hear of a vampire in the area, I relocate to Tibet."

"Smartass." He cleared his throat, toweling off the last of the freshly washed dishes. The only room in the house she was allowed to touch besides her room and the bathroom was the kitchen, and only because she was a damn fine cook. She had to leave the rest of his mess alone.

"Bobby, can I ask you a question?"

He just grunted.

"Why are you teaching me all this?" She got the gist of what he had said before, he wouldn't be around forever, not that she was planning on spending forever in this house, but still.

"Because you need to know, Jane. Someday you're going to be on your own again and you know what's lurking out there, you need to be prepared, just in case." He stepped away from the counter and removed his hat briefly, running fingers through his hair before replacing it. "You about them, they know about you. I'm just trying to give you a fighting chance."

She winced at that, he made it sound like she didn't have long. "Did you teach Sam and Dean?"

"No. John did." Now he was abrupt, even more so than usual. "They had it hard, Jane, especially Dean." He dropped down at the table, not even batting an eyelash when she procured them each a beer. He was getting used to her waiting on him whenever he ventured into her domain. It was… odd, but… it was also homey. He had to remind himself to stop being used to it because it was temporary.

Yeah, right.

"What do you mean?" She kept her voice quiet, trying not to sound to pressing but it seemed like he was in a talkative mood about something other than saving her ass.

"John raised him to be a hunter, be a soldier, and he was always taking care of Sam. Sam was… well, he didn't have a normal, easy life, but it was more normal and easier than Dean. He had a lot of responsibility placed on him, Jane."

She just nodded, already aware of how protective of Sam Dean could be. Sometimes it was as if Dean hated Sam as much as he loved him, and that could have been resentment.

"He's a little wild."

"Understatement."

"Yeah, well," He took a chug from the bottle. "Doesn't excuse him for dragging you into this."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Don't be an idjit, woman. If he would've left you where he found you, at that bar in Texas, you'd of gone on with your life the way it should've happened. You'd be none the wiser about any of this."

"Maybe. I am mildly psychic, that could have eventually kicked out your whole normal theory."

"Maybe, maybe not. Point is Jane, Dean knows what this life is like. Hunters die young, and if not, well… look at me."

"You're not so bad."

He scoffed. "You just don't know me that well."

* * *

"You planning on stopping in anytime soon?"

"Eventually, I did just get out of prison not too long ago. I'm feeling the need for a conjugal."

Bobby mimed strangling Dean, wishing he could through the telephone. "Dean, don't you think you've messed her up enough?"

Dean was silent.

"Bobby?"

Apparently Dean had handed the phone over. "Hey Sam, he throwing a fit?"

"He just stormed into the bathroom. What'd you say?"

"Nothing… You boys all right?"

"Yeah." Sam didn't sound all right though. "We had a run in with a Djinn last night. It messed Dean up pretty bad."

Bobby didn't know whether to ask what happened or feel a bit bad for his prior comment. He decided on neither. Obviously Dean was alive and fine. "Kill it?"

"Yeah. It's just… it had Dean trapped, in this little fantasy life I guess. He's hurting I think, he got… he got to have a normal life, even if it was fake."

Now that was cruel and Bobby did feel bad, not that he was admitting it outside his own head.

"How's Jane?"

Change of topic, that was good. "She's fine. I'm keeping her busy."

"With?"

"Training."

Sam laughed, sounding incredulous. "Really? Why?"

"Sam, do you really think she's going to be here much longer? One way or another, this has to end, and if she's alive afterwards, she'll go back to her life."

Sam was quiet for a long moment, and Bobby almost asked if he was still there before the young Winchester broke his silence. "Don't tell Dean that."


	17. Shadow

**Shadow**

"Pack what you need for a few days, we're leaving."

Jane nearly jumped out of her skin at the very unexpected sound of Dean's voice behind her and whirled around. She hadn't seen or heard from him since February, which was… like four months ago and here he was, out of the blue. She didn't know whether to kiss or kill him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Sam's missing and we got to go."

"Again?"

"Now Jane."

* * *

"Ash wouldn't tell me what it was, said I had to come to him."

"Well that's useful."

Jane sat in the backseat of the Impala, listening as Bobby and Dean quietly discussed what was going on, or what they thought might be going on. The idea of Sam being possessed again didn't sound very appealing but from what Dean had said, this wasn't like the last time Sam had gone missing. This time, he had just disappeared. He had gone into a diner and… vanished.

Silence ruled for the next hour or so, however long it took them to pull up in front of what used to be the Roadhouse. Her eyes widened as she took in the rubble and smoke, feeling the Impala lurch to a halt and scrambled out just as quickly as Dean and Bobby did.

Whatever Ash had meant to tell Dean, it had been important, and dangerous.

* * *

_That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels._

"How haunted are we talking, Bobby?" Jane asked, trying not to think of the look on Dean's face when that vision, or whatever it had been, had struck him. He had detailed it out and Bobby had been the one to piece together what Dean had seen. Now they were back in the Impala and on their way to Cold Oak, South Dakota.

"Extremely. You brought you gun?" He peered back at her, nodding when she patted the sawed off beside her on the seat. "Good." He turned around, looking out the window. Ash was dead. Others were dead.

They had walked through the wreckage and Jane could not recall ever seeing something so terrible. There had been… well, she had seen the charred remains of people, she had even been able to make out a boot.

Dean had been the one to find Ash, identifying him by a watch and Jane hadn't known what to do at the look on his face. She had no idea what to say even now that they were on the road again, she just kept silence. They were all keeping silent.

* * *

They hadn't seen any ghosts, demons or monsters, but the place was still spooky as hell. They had managed to make it so far in the car before finally being forced to enter on foot. There was just something wrong about this place, and Jane had barely taken three steps from the Impala before her stupid 'instinct' kicked in. The familiar tug lurched in her gut, and she felt like she had to hurry, like they had to hurry.

The only problem with that was everything seemed to be closing in on them, though nothing moved. The air was oppressive and it seemed that the night was pressing in on them. There were shadows everywhere and because of her new knowledge of this place, they seemed particularly sinister. She pressed herself a bit closer to Dean, remembering something from she had been a little girl.

When she was a kid, she had always done a run and jump into her bed at night. She made sure she was tucked into a tight little cocoon right in the center of her twin sized mattress because she _knew_ if she let one limb, one teeny tiny finger, dangle over any edge of the bed –even the small crack where bed met wall-, then she was fair game. If that happened, then the thing that lived under bed would have a fair license to get her.

Just like these shadows would get her if she strayed too close.

In retrospect, the thing under the bed could have been totally real all things considered. It could have had a code of ethics. If she let a limb dangle, she was fair game and it was free to strip the skin off of her and suck the marrow from her bones –because everyone knew that was what creatures under the bed did- but since she hadn't let anything dangle, it had let her be.

That had been her _imagination_. Dean had actually lived with this knowledge as a child. He had _known_ about monsters…

"Sweetheart, you're clinging."

Speaking of Dean, his voice interrupted her somewhat panicky thoughts, and she realized she was indeed clinging to him. "Sorry." She whispered, letting go of his jacket. The perk to the panicky thoughts was that she had been able to ignore the tugging, which was now demanding her full attention. "We need to go faster."

He glanced down at her. "Having a magic moment?"

She nodded.

He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. "All right, let's go."

And they were off.

_Go. Go. Go. _

Because if they didn't go fast enough, it was ethically okay for the shadows to come get them.

* * *

"Sammy!" Relief washed through Dean at the sight of Sam coming towards them. He was stumbling a bit, but that sorted itself out quick enough. "Sam!"

"Faster Dean!" Jane urged from just behind him. "Sam!"

Sam looked so happy to see them, tired, but happy. He was holding his arm cradled to his chest, obviously injured.

"Sam, look out!" Dean shouted, eyes widening as he picked up his pace.

But it was too late, and Jane would never forget the sound of that knife, or whatever it had been, ripping through Sam. She would never forget the look on his face as he dropped to his knees, shoulders thrown, back arched, as if warding off the pain before reeling in an semi-upright position. Dean had thrown himself to the ground before his brother, catching Sam, and she couldn't watch anymore.

Bobby took off after the man who had come up behind Sam, who had stabbed him. Not a shadow, but a man, and the _feeling_ stopped because… it didn't matter anymore. They didn't go fast enough. She was running after Bobby, desperate to catch him, or the man.

"Gone, he's gone!" Bobby panted, finally coming to a stop and catching her before she could past him. "He's gone Jane."

"Oh God, oh God! Sam!"


	18. Sammy

**Sammy**

"Well then let it END!"

Jane flinched from outside, hearing Dean's shout through the less than stellar building they had shacked themselves in. Sam had… died, just last night, and Dean had hauled him here. He had instructed her to take Bobby to get his vehicle of the moment, which had left him time to clean his brother up. One things TV and the movie rarely depicted was what happened to bodies after death. Not all that pleasant.

That had been her key indicator outside of the fact that he had literally just watched his brother die, that his mental state was nowhere good. He had let her drive his baby, the Impala, the car he loved nearly as much as he had Sam.

Had. Sam.

Bobby came walking out and halted, just staring at her, but not at her, more like through her. "You're smoking." He said in a flat voice after a moment.

She nodded, looking down at the Camel between her fingers. "I am." She muttered, bringing it to her lips and taking a quick drag from it.

He snorted when she began hacking on it, coughing until her eyes got teary. "Why are you trying to kill yourself with a habit you obviously can't handle?"

She shrugged.

"Go in there in a few, try to talk some sense into him Jane." Bobby rested his hand on her shoulder. "Try to get him to… to bury or burn Sam."

"Bobby…" She flicked away the cigarette, what a waste of money. She had stopped long enough to fill up the car, buy some bare necessities and seen the display behind the counter. Smoking had seemed like an idea at the time. Bad idea. "I can't… he won't listen to me."

"If there's anyone in this world he'll listen to right now, it'd be you."

She somehow doubted that.

* * *

"What am I supposed to do?"

Jane didn't think Dean was talking to her and remained quiet as she stepped inside the house.

"Sammy? …what am I supposed to do?"

She felt her heart breaking and slowly walked towards him. When she laid eyes on Sam, she couldn't keep the chill from ghosting over her. Hesitantly, she held out her hands, slowly letting her palms down until they rested on his shoulders. When he didn't immediately shrug her off or start cursing her out, she took that as a good sign and bent down until her cheek was brushing his, her chest to his back. "Dean… it's not good for you to sit here."

He sighed, his entire body slumping as he shifted down in the chair he had been keeping vigil in ever since getting Sammy's body sorted. "Janey, don't ask me to move, sweetheart. Please, don't."

She just nodded, having already known asking was useless. Jane felt the shift in Dean before it actually occurred and had a hard time navigating herself around him and into his lap when he began gracelessly tugging her down. Once she was sitting sideways on his thighs, she wrapped one arm around him, the other sitting in her own lap.

"Everything quiet outside?" He asked quietly, the hand that was wrapped around her kneading her side, his other hand resting on her knee.

"Yeah. It's like everything packed up and left once… once it was over." She mentally flinched, wondering why she had just put her foot in her mouth that way when the reminder why she shouldn't was laying not too far away from her.

His lips did a half twitch, a humorless smile that didn't reach his turbulent eyes. "Bobby wants me to bury him, Janey, or burn him. How can I do that? How can I bury Sammy? I promised him I'd take care of him, and…"

She didn't know what to say, there really was nothing she could say, so she simply hugged him. She felt his face moving to the crook of her neck and simply ran her fingers through his hair. "You should try to get some sleep Dean."

He slowly shook his head. "Can't sleep."

Not surprised about that either, and she just held him.

* * *

"Don't touch him. Don't let anyone else touch him. If Bobby comes back and tries to burn or bury him, you shoot Bobby."

"Dean!"

Dean stared down at her, the look on his face informing her that he wasn't joking. "I mean it Jane, nobody touches him."

Jane highly doubted Bobby was coming back, not anytime soon. Bobby was probably holed up in the house, wondering if Dean had regained a fraction of his mind yet. Her concern was the MIA inhabitants of this town. The demons, or ghosts, who had been here before, the things that had gotten Cold Oak its reputation as the most haunted ghost town. "Nobody will, Dean." She reassured him, hoping she wasn't making a promise she couldn't keep.

"Got your guns?"

She nodded. The sawed off was within immediate reach, her 9mm in its hardly used holster on her hip. Folding her arms over her chest, Jane wished they were anywhere but here. Anywhere but this God forsaken place. "Are you going to tell me where you're going?"

"No."

"Any way I could persuade you too?"

He looked her up and down and then shook his head. "Not today, sweetheart. Come give me a kiss and then salt the hell out of the place."

"It's already salted."

"Then do it again." He finished pulling on his worn, brown leather jacket and opened his arms. "Here. Now."

"One of these days, you're going to give the wrong order." But she was still obediently walking to him, sliding her arms around his neck.

"Not today." He bent down until his forehead was pressing against hers. "How'd I get lucky enough to keep you?"

"A uh, demon, kidnapped me off the streets of my quiet, wholesome Texas town while I was on my way to divorcing you." Her lips brushed against his. "Dean, please… don't do anything stu-"

He kissed her to shut her up. "Take care of Sammy."

She stood right there until she heard the door shut behind him before turning to walk back over to resume vigil. "Sammy… since he's probably going to go do something really idiotic and you'll probably wake up… I hope he does it soon…. Before you start to smell."


	19. Deal

**Deal**

The general idea had been that Sam was going to somehow miraculously come back to life. Dean would go work some mojo and Sam would pop up, everything would be all right. That had been the idea. Jane didn't believe it, not really. Demons were real, and possessing people. Monsters were real, they ate people who dangled off their beds. But the only person to ever return from the dead was Jesus.

Sam sat up.

"Holy shit!" Jane shrieked, standing up violently enough to send the chair she had been sitting in sprawling behind her. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that this was what was supposed to happen. She had known Dean wasn't going out for a Sunday drive, he was going out to do something stupid and bring Sam back. However, knowing and seeing were two very different things.

Sam stared at her out of wild eyes.

She could only stare back for a long while. Finally, when she sort of had her wits about her, she offered him a reassuring smile. "Hey Sam, why don't-"

"What happened?" He demanded, struggling to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

She moved to help him, instinctively knowing that telling him he had been dead for a while would not go over well with either him or Dean. Whatever Dean had done… well… she knew it was bad and felt panic pricking at her stomach. "You were hurt." She said lamely, kneeling down in front of him, her hands on his knees as she tried to keep him from moving around too much. She had no idea how he was alive, she didn't really want to think about it, but she also knew he had died from a pretty serious wound. Was that gone now? Or was he going to start bleeding all over the place? "Just sit still for a moment, please."

"Dean, where's Dean?" He rasped, gripping the top of her hands, his own completely engulfing hers.

"He's on his way Sam." She could only stare down at his hands. They were huge. They were warm.

Sam was alive.

* * *

The look on Bobby's face was priceless and Jane felt like finding a hole to go crawl in when his gaze shifted from Sam, to Dean and then finally to her. She just tried to make herself appear smaller in the denim jacket she wore, hands stuffed in the pockets, and looked anywhere but at him. He had told her to convince Dean to bury or burn Sam, and instead…

Ta da!

"Hey, Bobby."

"Hey, Bobby."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Hi Bobby." The minute Dean had passed off a 'Sam's all better' and they were in the house, she excused herself to go get cleaned up. She needed to wash away the Cold Oak.

She turned on every light she passed by. There would be no shadows to haunt her.

* * *

"What did he do Jane?"

Jane turned around and threw the hairbrush in her hand directly at Sam, not even thinking twice about it. Stupid thing to do really, if he had been anyone, anything else, that hairbrush would have been, a majorly embarrassing choice in weaponry. Since it was just her reanimated brother-in-law the hairbrush was cool. "Damn it, Sam! Don't you knock?"

He rapped his knuckles against the now open door and stepped inside. "What'd he do?"

She frowned, turning to grab her socks off the bed before sitting down on the mattress, pulling them on. "Don't know what you're talking about, Sam."

"Jane, don't- don't treat me like I'm a fool, because I'm not. I saw the look on Bobby's face, I've seen how you look at me. Just… _tell_ me." He half turned, peeling off his shirt. "This, Jane, this is a scar… I'm not stupid, this was a fatal wound and it's only days old. So tell me… what did he do?"

Jane inhaled sharply. "I don't know, Sam."

* * *

"Janey, sweetheart, if I were a jealous man, I'd be pretty upset right now."

Jane rolled her eyes, assuming Dean caught Sam coming down the stairwell and probably pulling his shirt back on. "Seriously, Dean?"

"Seriously Jane, he was half-naked. Good thing I trust Sammy, huh?" He caught her fist before her blow could land on his face, half-smirking. "Now sweetheart, considering the week we've had, don't you think violence is a bit much?"

Jane began mentally counting backwards from one hundred. "Dean, you're not funny."

He shrugged, letting go of her hand and placing his on her waist. "What'd he want?"

"What do you think? Answers, Dean. You fed him bullshit and he knows it." Jane's eyes narrowed when he squeezed her. "I didn't tell him anything Dean. It's not like I _know _anything to tell, hmm?"

She wasn't funny. She knew that Sam had been dead which was enough. "Jane, did you tell him anything? Seriously."

"I didn't tell him anything Dean, except the truth."

"Which is?"

"That I don't know."

He studied her a moment longer then let go, moving to sit on the bed they tended to share when they were both in the house at the same time. He patted the space next to him and wrapped his arm around her when she joined him. "I made a deal, Jane." He said quietly.

She bit her lower lip, sighing. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Probably because you know me."


	20. Easy

**Easy**

"I don't want you coming."

"Well tough, I am, so deal with it, Dean." Jane said flatly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she filled shells with rock salt. "Ellen's going."

"Yeah, and she shouldn't be. She nearly died once, she doesn't need to be going for try number two." He shot back, not overly pleased when his wife merely shrugged. "Jane…"

She frowned, pushing away from the desk that took up the majority of the bedroom corner and stood. They had not had a very good afternoon and even now, she could hear preparations going on downstairs for their rapidly approaching road trip. Ellen being alive was a blessing, she had appeared in the junkyard, alive and demon-free. Bobby had tested for a rider of course, just to ensure that it was only Ellen and not Ellen plus one. And she had brought what Ash had intended to show Dean, a map.

From what she understood, they were about to go get their asses kicked again. Not that she would ever voice that out loud. A giant devil's trap… and they had to go make sure the chocolate center remained unwrapped. Bad analogy, but she didn't like thinking of the fact that there was a gate to hell and they were about to go visit it.

"I can't stay here and wait Dean. I've been doing that for months, and it's driving me crazy." She finally admitted. "This entire thing is driving me crazy." In a few months, she'd of been living this way for a year. It had been a hell of a time. Being demon jacked, seeing some truly bizarre crap, learning how to 'think like a hunter' but not actual be one, Sam dying…

His jaw tensed. "I suppose it is. You should be… anywhere but here, living normal." The idea of her going back to her 'life' seemed odd. He had gotten used to Jane being here, not always with him, but always within reach. Hell, he had even gotten somewhat used to the idea of being married, even if it were temporary.

Not that he had quit his flirting. If Jane wasn't around, he'd still take a second look, maybe banter back and forth, but he never took it anywhere. Not that he hadn't been tested a time or two. But he hadn't. It also helped that he had Sam along, helpfully reminding him –and the women he flirted with- that he had a 'gorgeous wife' waiting back home. A gorgeous, temporary wife.

"I don't think I was ever cut out for normal, Dean."

"Maybe, maybe not. Guess now we'll never know, huh?" He looked around the room, his gaze finally landing on the bed they occasionally shared. "If everything goes the way it should, you'll be a free woman soon." She'd be able to finish her divorce and he'd be an unattached drifter again. All would be right in the world.

The comment was made so casually that at first, Jane was sure she had misunderstood him. When it sunk in, she pursed her lips. "Ready to be rid of me?" Of course he was, he had never made any bones about who he was, or the fact that if it wouldn't have been for her, some of his nights wouldn't have been so lonely. What a great guy.

"Hell yeah," He grinned down at her, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "I told you once, sweetheart, you ruined me. Not to mention, all those women you've been denying my many, many charms."

"Oh those poor girls… how guilty I'm not feeling." Jane shoved him backwards, smirking when he was caught off-guard and landed on the bed. "You know you'll miss me." She informed him as she moved to sit on his thighs, her hands resting on his abdomen.

"Mmm, maybe a little bit, baby." He folded his hands under his head. "One last round?"

"No." She bent down to brush her lips against his. "Not until you admit you'll miss me."

"I'll miss _this_ for sure." He raised his hips, letting out a quiet chuckle when she sounded exasperated. "Jane, as messed up as it's been at times, you are the… longest relationship I've ever been in. It'll be good for you to get back to your life, Jane. This isn't for you, it never was."

"That your way of letting me down easy?"

"Letting us both down easy. I think we both know this wouldn't work out in the long run. I mean, I'm a high school dropout who made the career choice of hunting the nasties with a year left to live. You can do better."

"A year left to live?"

He gave her a dark look, she had totally missed or ignored the do better's implied 'me'. "How do you think that deal went down Jane? I get him back without giving up anything?"

"A year, Dean?" She moved to get off of him only to wind up laying out on him, chest to chest. "Let me go, I can't believe you… Did you even stop to think about Sam?"

"I did it for him." He couldn't let Sammy die, be dead, not while there was a breath left in his body and he had seen no other way. He knew she wouldn't understand so he didn't see any point in explaining his motives.

"No, you did it because you can't-" He shook her so hard her teeth rattled and she paused. "You can't let him go because you're afraid."

"Maybe." His eyes were dark. "But it's none of your business sweetheart, now is it?"

"You're a jerk Dean, you know that? A real jerk."

He rolled suddenly, so she was the one lying on the bed, and he was on top of her. A knee between her thighs parted them and he shifted his weight so he wasn't crushing her. "Don't come tonight, Jane. Just stay here and let us handle it."

So that's what this had been about, on top of her provocation with Sam. He had apparently sold his soul and had one year left, but he was concerned about her going with them to that damn devil's gate. "I'm coming, Dean. You might as well resign yourself to that."

"I don't know what's going to happen… it's going to be bad, sweetheart. Real bad."

"When isn't it?"

He laughed humorlessly, studying her face intently. "Why haven't you gone crazy yet?"

"Pardon me?"

"Most people would have lost it by now, but not you. Why is that?"

She considered the question, agreeing he was right. "Well… because, I don't know really. I mean, I freak out, and sometimes I think I may be crazy, definitely scared half the time, but… it doesn't seem all that weird to me. You gotta remember, I've been somewhat weird myself for my entire life."

He snorted but nodded. "I can believe it."

"Dean…." She wanted to ask him why he had made the deal, but she knew why. No matter how stupid it seemed, dealing with demons, she knew why. "I'm not leaving after this is over, just so you know."

"Why not?"

"Because… I think I might… well, I like it here."

"You like me, you mean."

"Not really. I hardly ever see you and when I do, you boss me around and try to get in my pants."

"Guilty on both accounts." He sat up and simply stared down at her. "You know, this year isn't going to be easy. Not that it was easy before. It's going to be… messed up, Jane."

"The way I figure it, either I divorce you or just wait for the year to come and go and be a widow. I'm lazy about paperwork so…" She smiled, to let him know she was teasing, mostly. "Unless of course, you want me to just get it done and over with so you can go back to your life of hedonism."

He actually considered that. He had one year left, providing they even made it through tonight. "Let's get through tonight Jane, and then we'll sit down and figure this thing… us… out."

"Sure, get through tonight."

"It'll be easy."


	21. Comfortable

**Comfortable**

"I'm telling Sam to come in."

Dean shot off the bed, quick enough to stop Jane before she could reach the motel room door. Laughing, he pulled her backwards, one arm looped around her waist, the other moving to the buttons of the shirt she was wearing –which was his shirt. "Oh no you're not, he's happy out there. He's in research mode."

"Because of you!"

"I'm giving him purpose, now come back to bed with me."

Jane let out a groan when they fell back onto the bed Dean had claimed for them. "Is it really fair to kick your brother out just so you can get a piece?"

"The day Sam kicks us out so he can get laid is the day I know he's finally a man."

"God you're horrible…" She rolled onto her side and trailed her fingers up his ribs, tips caressing his skin as they moved to his chest. "Delicious, but horrible. He's out there trying to save you and-"

"Baby, there's plenty of time." He interrupted, not really wanting the mood spoiled by his impending death. "So stop worrying. I'm not worried."

"Of course not. It's only been a week, not even that, I don't think it's hit you yet."

"Jane, if you were a man, I'd punch you right now. You're killing the moment!"

"You'd have a man in bed with you?"

"What? No, no! You're twisting my- go get Sam." He propped himself on his elbows to watch her slide off the bed and shook his head, fighting not to grin. "Evil woman…"

She threw him a wink over her shoulder.

* * *

"That is… disgusting." Jane pulled a red bandanna from her back pocket and held it over her mouth and nose, really hoping she wasn't inhaling a super bug as images from The Stand flashed through her head.

"Quiet." Bobby ordered, pushing his way past her into the house.

She rolled her eyes and stowed the lock pick back in her new breaking and entering toolkit. She was becoming a criminal. It was Dean who had insisted she learn how to pick a lock, and that she come on the road with them, Bobby had not been pleased. She didn't think Sam was either.

Sam wasn't really overly happy right now period. The whole story had come out. Dean had made a deal with a crossroads demon. Sam's life for his soul, and instead of the usual ten, he got a year. Sam felt guilty about Dean's upcoming date with Satan, and there was the obvious bit of John doing the same thing to save John. It was just a never ending circle of stupidity. Only the Winchesters would deal with demons when knowing everything they did about the damn things.

It really made her glad that she had kept her last name.

"Ugh!"

"Oh!" Now that was disturbing, and explained the source of the stench. Jane could only stare down at the family on the couch. Dead, and sitting there… like they had just sat there and watched the TV until they kicked it. "Oh…" That bacon cheeseburger she had eaten for breakfast was not sitting so well anymore.

"Bobby," Sam looked to the older man in confusion. "What the hell happened here?"

"I don't know."

"Check for sulfur."

That was something she could definitely do, and it was a great excuse to not linger anywhere near those bodies. Her head snapped up when she heard a noise from outside, glancing over at Dean who had obviously heard it too. He made a gesture and disappeared. She arched a brow when Bobby and Sam went towards the back of the house. She followed Dean, a bit lost at just what she was supposed to do.

A very short minute later, Dean was on the ground from a shotgun being slammed into him and she was then face to barrel with the damn thing.

"Isaac? Tamara?"

Oh thank God. Her fingers unclenched from her 9mm.

* * *

"Well Jenny, it you look as pretty as you sound, then I'd love to have an appletini."

Jane smacked herself in the face, ignoring the amused look Sam shot her. "One word and you die Winchester."

He cleared his throat. He had already made a gaffe with Isaac and Tamara, he wasn't about to do it a second time.

"Yeah. Call you."

Bobby handed her a gun. "Aim for something that ain't vital, we still need the idjit."

When Dean turned to give them the news, he was greeted with Bobby's pistol in Jane's hand and she was staring at him contemplatively. "What?"

"Nah." She passed it back to Bobby. "Not worth the bullet."

"What'd I do?"

* * *

"It's suicide Dean!"

"So what? I'm dead already!"

Jane really did not like hearing that as she handed Bobby the book. "There."

He looked at it, took a second to let it all click, and nodded. "Good work." He tucked the book under his arm and headed towards the other room, where the suicide squad seemed to be winning.

"…know how many there are!"

"Yeah, we do. Seven." Bobby said flatly, exchanging a worried look with Jane.

"You haven't sorted out who we're dealing with?" Jane asked incredulously. Even she knew this one. She had had a puzzle locking into place moment as she and Bobby had recounted what they knew.

"No." Dean was staring at her in surprise. "Who?"

"The seven deadly sins."

"Idjit."

"You know, I don't like them together." Dean grinned. "What's in the box?"

"…the hell?" Jane had definitely had more of a normal, tradition life than them and she still had no idea what he was talking about.

"Brad Pitt? Se7en? No?"

Bobby threw the book to –well, at- him.

* * *

"I'm going with Bobby."

Considering the night they had had, Dean didn't find that all amusing. "No, you're not."

"Uh, yes I am." Jane countered, not about to let him pulling the command thing right now. It was one thing when it was stuff that wasn't… apocalyptic. "We're going to see if we can't find what else might've come out the gate."

"You can do that with me."

"Aw, you're going to miss me."

He was still not amused. "Janey, don't. You said you'd come with us."

"I'll join you, don't you worry your handsome self about that. I'll have to if I want to keep you on the straight and narrow." She tweaked his nose, ignoring his growl. "Getting a little comfy with me, are you Winchester?"

"You have no idea, Mrs. Winchester."


	22. Playing House

**A/N: **So I went for a longer chapter, and it took forever! But, here it is :) I own nothing, except Jane -sadly.

* * *

**Playing House**

* * *

"You're going to melt off your fingers if you don't start watching what you're doing, idjit."

Dean looked down and just barely managed to avert casting liquid metal over his left hand. "Damn…" He flashed Bobby a sheepish smile. "My bad."

"Uh huh." Grunting, Bobby shifted in his chair in order to see what had Dean's attention. He shook his head. "Really, son?"

"What?"

"You've been here for two weeks, ain't you gotten enough?"

"Bobby," Dean looked hurt. "I've been helping you fix the colt… and looking for omens, and letting Sam enjoy some research."

"And harassing Jane whenever you get half a chance." Bobby shook his head again, returning to the task at hand: trying to figure out how this damn gun worked. Well, he knew how it _worked_, just like any other gun. He wanted to know what damn magic was needed to get it back into demon killing shape. "You need to let that girl alone Dean. There ain't no point in dragging this on between you two, not when you're so eager to go to the basement."

"I'm not dragging anything on." He wasn't look at Bobby, focusing now on melting metal to cast bullets. "She knows the score."

"Does she?"

"Mind your own business, Bobby."

* * *

"Sam, take a break." Jane ordered, putting her hand on the page Sam was trying to read and merely gave him a sweet smile when he glowered up at her. When he was sitting in a chair at the table, it was pretty hard to be intimidated. "You're going to read yourself cross-eyed."

"That doesn't really happen." He grumbled, closing the book and setting it aside. "Can I at least use the laptop, _mom_?"

She twisted a dishtowel and then snapped it at him. "I suppose… if you must."

"Don't you ever get tired of doing dishes?" He asked, pushing away from the table to go dry for her, the laptop not sounding all that appealing either. He doubted he was going to find what he needed on a chat forum.

"The way Dean and you eat? Damn right I do." She glanced up at him, offering another smile. "Find anything?"

"Nothing promising."

"You will."

"Aw, look at you two, so domesticated."

Jane and Sam both looked over their shoulders, identical eye rolls, and turned back.

"See what I mean? You're so in sync." Dean chuckled, walking over to pat Sam on the shoulder. "Step off and let daddy talk to mommy."

"Dude… there is something seriously wrong with you." Sam sometimes had to wonder if Dean had been dropped on his head and now was one of those times.

"Beat it junior, the grown-ups are about to be busy."

Jane took that as her cue to sidle away before she could get pinned, turning when she was out of reach and extended her soapy hands to ward him off. "Nuh uh, I'm busy. Go help Bobbie."

"I can't, he told me to get lost."

"Staring at my ass again, weren't you?"

"Sweetheart, I don't think I ever stopped." He remembered when he had first met her, and that shapeless gray uniform she had worn. Now that had been the most misleading outfit of all time. While tall, thin and somewhat lanky, she still had an ass on her that made him want to do things Sammy was tired of hearing about.

Honestly, he had been distracted just by watching her. She had been flitting around the kitchen and he could smell whatever she had in the oven, it smelled delicious. She was going to ruin diner food for him if she kept up with this Betty Crocker gig. It was easy to watch her do this thing, act like this was her kitchen, and feel like maybe, just maybe, he was missing out on something.

He had a wife. Granted, it wasn't ideal. She had been prepared to divorce him and it bothered Dean more than he would admit that she would probably finish said divorce when she was able to return to a semblance of her life. Her life without him. And then there was the fact that he had less than a year to live.

Well… that was plenty of time for him to play house.

* * *

"Oh dear God…"

"You know, we're going to have to start springing for separate rooms because I am not dealing with…" Sam gritted his teeth, able to see Dean's shit eating grin quite clearly thanks to the mirrors that made up their hotel room ceiling. "No, just no."

"C'mon guys, this is great!" Dean surveyed the two beds, finally dropping his bag down on the one he decided he wanted. "Mirrors, beds…mirrors." He grinned up at himself.

"This is ridiculous Dean." Jane had nothing against Sam, but there was no way she could share a room with both brothers. She did like Sam, really, but Dean was… a pervert and was very likely to keep attempting to get laid while Sam 'slept'. She highly doubted Sam did a lot of sleeping when she joined them because he was worried about waking up and seeing some awkward things. Hell, she was worried about seeing some awkward things. "Either we figure out new arrangements-"

He arched an eyebrow.

"Or…" Her lips curved up into a smile. "We invite your brother into our bed."

"Sammy, I'll go see if I can't find us a room next door. Or better yet, something that's adjacent."

Sam looked torn between amusement and worry, having not taken the 'threat' as seriously as Dean obviously had. Jane liked him a friend and semi-brother-in-law, since neither of them were certain of the marriage status at this point in time. "What about the cost?"

Dean pursed his lips, thinking about it for a second and then grinned. "Looks like little Janey is about to start financially contributing."

It took her a moment to process that and she shook her head. "No, hell no, Dean that is-"

"I'll take care of it, don't you worry." He was already walking out of the room, whistling.

"Shit…"

* * *

"It's taking him long enough…"

Sam was leaning in the open door, staring down the hallway. "Yeah, it is."

"Think he's in trouble?"

"You really do not want to know what I think, Jane." He spared her a quick look. "It's Dean."

"Point taken." She walked over to stand by him, poking her head past him. "How're you holding up?"

His shoulders dropped for a second. "I've been better."

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

"Jane, he's going to die in less than a year because he made a deal, because of me. Please explain how that is not my fault?"

"It's Dean."

Now it was his lips twitching into something that might've been mistaken for a smile. Before he could give a rebuttal the door across the hallway opened and Dean rounded the corner.

"Richie, I don't believe it…"

Sam and Jane exchanged looks, shrugging.

"Hey, Dean… Winchester, right?"

Jane's nose wrinkled a woman who was taller than her and definitely wearing less than her appeared behind Richie. She felt… plain, but not whorish. That was a perk. She was going to slap Dean if his eyes didn't go back in skull.

Sam seemed to pick up on that because he cleared his throat, drawing Dean's attention to him and off the leggy piece who was not Richie's sister, or step-sister, no matter what the guy insisted.

Jane folded her arms over her chest, frowning when Dean looked at her.

"What?"

* * *

Trotter's looked like pretty much every other bar Jane had ever been in. She had worked in a damn bar, she didn't like bars. The only thing they were good for were… no, nothing. She preferred drinking at home, where it was cheaper and nobody watered down her liquor.

She spared a glance at Dean, who was speaking with Richie, and then to Sam, who was surveying the locals. Her gaze drifted to the woman behind the bar, not overly surprised when she heard Dean mentioned investigating with the bartender.

"Come on Jane, I'll show you how to earn some cash." Sam said, taking her by the hand and leaving Dean to it. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"That he flirts with anything that walks and talks?" She stuck close to him, feeling a familiar tugging beginning in the pit of her gut. "Only if it goes beyond flirting, then I might send him to the basement ahead of schedule."

He snorted, taking in the pool tables. "You know how to play?"

She cocked an eyebrow, realizing what he had meant by 'earning cash'. "Hustling? Really?"

He shrugged. "I don't particularly like it, but sometimes… you know, gotta eat."

Jane had stopped paying attention to him. She was now focusing on a man that was making the Knowing practically kill her head. "Sam, he has a gun." She whispered.

Sam bent down so he could hear her, eyes widening when she repeated herself. "Dean!"

At the same time he had shouted that, the man had discharged his weapon. A moment later he had been tackled to the floor and splashed with holy water. Dean, Sam and Jane stared at the guy and waited. Nothing.

"That bastard slept with my wife!"

Ah… this might have just been good old fashioned vengeance and Jane cleared her throat. "Someone call 9-1-1!"

Alright, maybe it was a town full of scumbags.

* * *

"Were they there?"

"Nope."

Jane sighed into the cell, trying to ignore the fact that her "husband" had gone off with the bartender –smokin' hot chick by the name of Casey- and left her in their hotel room to do 'research'. "Find anything?"

"Yeah, sulfur."

"Oh great… Want me to call Bobby?"

"No, I already tried, he's not answering. Look, I'm going to go with the, uh, Father, to see if we can't find Dean."

"Do you want me to come?"

"No. Stay there. Now that we know for sure there's a demon in town, everything it's done here is… well, just stay there, okay?"

"Sam, I-"

"I got to go, Jane. Stay there."

She pulled the phone from her ear when she heard the call end and scoffed. "Not likely."

* * *

"Sammy, be careful."

Well that never boded well for him and Sam felt a bit like an idiot as he turned towards Father Gil. Somehow, it wasn't all that surprising that the good 'father' was a demon, who wasn't these days? He flinched when there was a shot, looking down at his gun. He hadn't fired.

It was Bobby, but he didn't really have time to digest that, or the fact that Jane was right behind the older man, because Bobby was suddenly flung aside and Sam was flying backwards. It was the crunch under him that told him he had broken glass, and then the pain. He had hit the Impala's windshield.

"Oh no, honey," Gil rounded on Jane, blinking his black eyes wickedly and disarmed her before she could fire off a slug. "You're coming with me."

* * *

Dean was fully prepared to charge until he seen Jane tucked under Gil's arm like she weighed nothing. A priest possessed by a demon, how original. He went to; somehow, retrieve his wife when she was hurled at him. He sort of caught her, but they both went flying backwards, her landing on top of him. She weighed more than nothing.

Jane rolled off of him, groaning as she rubbed the back of her head and looked at the two demons who were now embracing, a broken devil's trap on the floor. The priest and trampy bartender… she was going to make Dean start screening his extra-marital affairs from here on out.

"You two?" Dean sounded vaguely repulsed as he got to his feet, helping her up as Gil made his reply.

"Leave him be."

Casey caught Jane's attention with that and she reached out in time to grab Gil's arm the moment his hand wrapped around Dean's throat, letting go when he flashed his eyes at her again. She would never get over how disturbing that was.

"Don't kill him. Just let him go."

And now she was pleading for Dean's life… what the hell?

"Please."

She spotted Sam coming and let out a sigh of relief, the relief intensifying when she seen what was in his hand. Preacher demon now.

"Sam, wait!"

"Shoot her!" Jane admittedly felt murderous at this point and was tempted to ask Sam to shoot his brother while he was at it.

Sam shot her.

"Jane!"

She whirled to face him, hands on her hips. "Let's get this straight right now Winchester, you can have my bed or a bunch of one nighters with random women but you sure as hell ain't getting both!"

"It wasn't like that!"

"The hell it wasn't!"

Sam excused himself.

* * *

"I'm going home." Bobby announced after his chat with Dean. Jane had come out to see him off, pointedly ignoring Dean's presence. "You wanna come with?"

"No. She's staying here." Dean answered for her. "With me."

Jane scoffed. "The hell I am. Give me a minute to get my things, Bobby." Still ignoring Dean, she turned and headed back inside.

"She's not going, Bobby. So you might as well leave now."

"Don't you order me around, boy. If she wants to leave, then she'll leave and you best mind your manners or I'll pound your thick skull in."

* * *

Dean wanted to shake her until she stopped, but managed to keep himself still. He watched as Jane gathered her stuff up from the bathroom counter, knowing ordering her around was going to make the already messed up situation worse. He was going to have to suck it up, apologize, and hope to God he remembered how to genuinely be nice to a woman who wasn't a passing good time or a part of a case. "Jane, please…"

She didn't even hesitate. "No."

"Janey, sweetheart, nothing happened."

"You were stuck with that devil bitch for how long?"

"Yeah stuck, trapped. I was going to exorcise her but…"He didn't really want to admit he had forgotten the words. "That didn't work out."

"Oh, I bet it didn't." She shoved past him violently. "Too busy with other _things _to send her packing?"

"No, I forgot the damn words, all right?" He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to turn and face him. "Jane, just… hear me out okay? Then if you want to go, you can go."

"One minute, Dean, make it fast."

There was no way everything he wanted to say was going to fit into a minute and Dean didn't even know how to begin. He let go of her in order to run a hand through his short hair, tugging at the ends. "I'm sorry, I really am, Jane. I'll stop, all right? I didn't… I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and I don't want to go to bed with anyone else, only you."

She eyed him skeptically. "And the flirting?"

"Woman, I'm only human."

"You want to skip out on all those beds for just the one?"

He nodded, seeing she was beginning to relax slightly. The anger was receding from her eyes but he could still see the hurt. It was going to take time for that to go away, he had really messed up. "Just the one."

"Last chance Dean, I know what we're doing is temporary but I'm not going to share you. If you're with me, you're with me and no one else. Can you handle that?" When he grinned at her, she took that as a yes and cursed herself for a fool. "Go tell Bobby."

He headed for the door, that familiar strut back in his stride.

"You might also want to get an extra pillow from the front desk."

"Why?"

"You're on the floor tonight, jackass."


	23. Pie Day

**Pie Day**

Dean was very uncomfortable. In fact, he was on the verge of having a panic attack. He was in the Impala, in the passenger seat, and blindfolded. It was bad enough that he fallen for Jane's wily ways when she convinced him to let her drive, but being duped into the blindfold… he was a jackass. "Baby, when you said you wanted to, you know, do something new… this wasn't what I had in mind."

She glanced at him, smirking at the way his mouth turned down. She admitted it, she had played up to Dean's seriously overdone sex drive and then left him with a lovely case of the blues. "Darlin', hush and enjoy the ride. We're almost there."

"Darlin'?" He echoed, focusing on that one thing, trying not to imagine the horrible way she was driving. He didn't buy that crap about females being bad behind the wheel, he knew some chicks who could star in a real-life stunt movie, but Jane… she couldn't drive. "Your accent comes out when you say darlin', darlin_g_."

"Distracting yourself?"

"You have no idea, and if you swerve in my car, I'll divorce you."

"Hmm, that makes the idea all the more appealing…"

He slumped down in the seat, groaning. "Some wife…"

Jane just smiled.

* * *

"Can I take the bandanas off now?"

"Not yet… let me park…"

"Oh God, please, please, _please_, do not let her hit, bump, or scrape- OW! Focus on what you're doing woman and stop hitting me!"

"Shut up Dean or I won't let you out of this car."

"Shame." He snorted, drumming his fingers on his thigh impatiently.

She pocketed the keys once his beloved Impala was safely nestled between two Fords –he was going to have a fit-, and got out of the car. She hurried around to his side to let him out, grabbing his hand before he could remove the blue bandanas she had used. "Nuh uh, out first."

Letting out an exaggerated huff, Dean got out as well. Once vertical, he froze and inhaled deeply. "Something smells delicious." He rumbled, reaching out with both hands and smirked as he 'felt for her'. "My bad."

"Yeah, I bet." She let him grope her while she gave him back his vision, a bit pleased when he blinked a few times. "Dry eyes?"

"A bit…" He grinned down at her, taking another deep breath. "What smells so…" He was looking around now. "Good… Oh Janey…. You are the best."

His grin had turned into a full-fledged smile and Jane was slightly taken aback by just how… well, handsome… he really was. When he wasn't fighting something that technically didn't exist in the 'real' world, or being a cocky ass, or hitting on some other woman –something he hadn't done since Casey-, just how good looking he was tended to startle her. It also made her wonder why the hell he was still… well, with her.

"You like?" She shook away the negativity and plastered a smile on her lips. At his eager nod, she couldn't help but laugh. Linking her arm through his, she led the way towards the entrance to the Pie Day festival.

Dean had announced that they needed some downtime, which Sam had eagerly agreed to –research mode to break the deal-, and she hadn't wanted to stay cooped up at Bobby's. Then she had come across the Pie Day thing online. Dean loved pie, this was right up his alley.

She had announced they were going on a trip and gave him the directions. Once near the destination, she had pulled her kink stunt and now… here they were.

By the time they reached the entrance to the festival, Dean was leading the way, his nose leading him.

* * *

"Try this, sweetheart, you've gotta."

Jane groaned at the fork being waved under her nose. It smelled delicious but she was full. There wasn't one thing she had eaten today that was healthy, not a single one. Pie for lunch, pie for a snack, pie for afternoon tea, elevensies… she felt like a Hobbit. "I don't think I can, not without popping the button of my waistband."

He eyeballed her jeans. "Now that you mention it, your ass is looking a bit… fuller."

"You want punched, bub?"

"No ma'am." He finished the pie by himself, eyes sparkling with humor.

Jane waited patiently for him to finish. She was glad he had an addiction to the stuff, because she was officially swearing pies off for the next twenty years. There had been fruit pies: apple, pumpkin, apple rhubarb, blackberry, cherry, blueberry, hybrids and others. Cream pies. Double crust pies. Single crust pies. Chocolate pie. Banana pie. A pie she was pretty sure had been made by Sara Lee. Too much pie.

"Much better." Dean sighed contentedly, throwing away what had to be his hundredth plastic plate and fork. "What next?" He asked, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

"Whatever you want."

"Anything I want?"

"That is legal to do in broad daylight." She amended.

He pouted for a moment, then he reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. "Let's just walk for a bit. I think I need to walk off a potential food-coma."

That was agreeable, and nice. For a little while, they could pretend that they were just a regular couple living a normal, boring life.

* * *

"Do you want one of those?" Dean wasn't surprised in the least when Jane started. They had stopped to browse a stall and she had gotten bored –car collectibles were not her thing- and stared off. He had eventually noticed she was having issues even pretending to be interested and wanted to know what had gotten so good and distracted. It had been some small kids running circles around each other. She had just been staring, a thoughtful look on her face, and his stomach had given a bit of a lurch.

"One of what?" She finally asked, tearing her gaze from the kids in order to peer up at him.

"Rug rats."

"You're joking right?"

Dean didn't know how to respond to that. If he said yes, she might get pissy and assume he didn't want any. If he said no, she might get pissy and assume he did. He had never given it any thought before and given that he had less than a year left, he wasn't about to start now. "Uh… maybe?"

"Uh, try, no?" She was giving him a look that indicated she thought he was insane for even asking. "Dean, you're going to die in less than a year for one. Two, I've seen what is out there; why in the blue hell would I bring children into the picture? I'm married to a marked man, and I've gone and gotten myself marked as well. Having kids would just be begging for trouble."

"You don't need me to have kids, sweetheart. You could have them once… after…" He had walked himself into awkward and cleared his throat. "You know."

"Sorry Dean, but there's one little problem with that."

"What's that?"

"You've ruined me for other men."

Dean didn't quite know what to say to that. It was one thing for him to tease her about being ruined for women, but they were married, even if the circumstances surrounding the marriage were totally jacked. Being married just meant no sleeping around -at least not when he had her to go crawl in bed with. Outside of what could have been a nuclear scenario with Casey, he figured he'd done pretty good by those drunken marriage vows he had made.

He knew he cared for Jane, that much was obvious. He had never wanted to really stick around any woman this long. Hell, even Cassie hadn't come close to whatever it was he felt for Jane, and he had really _really_ cared for Cass. He knew that on some level she cared for him, and she sure did have herself a mile wide jealous streak, and she had shown him her hurt. Which bugged him, since he had been the cause of that hurt.

But they had an understanding. This marriage was only until he kicked the bucket, so to speak, and then she'd be a widow. Hopefully, she'd be a safe widow. There would be no reason for the demons to hunt her down anymore, and hopefully, no one from the FBI or any other law enforcement agency would look her up. There just wouldn't be any reason too. He was going to have to make sure he had stuff in place for her when he was gone. Just in case.

"Dean, you're spacing out now."

He snapped out of his thoughts and blinked, staring down intently at her. She was wearing what he figured was her favorite shade of lipstick, a pink glossy color, she never wore any other. Those pink, glossy lips were curved upwards into a patient smile, as if she knew he was sorting himself, and he blinked again. The woman knew him on some messed up level that he didn't even understand. "I'm fine." It came out in a tone rougher than his usual and he made himself smile to lessen any possible impact the tone might have had. "Just thinking, sweetheart."

"Well quit it, this is supposed to be a fun, stress-free outing." Jane admonished, her gray eyes studying his intently, as if she knew he needed pulled back to the surface of superficial thought. "Why don't we go to the pie judging contest? You can add your two cents."

He nodded, that sounded great, it sounded like a lot less work than sorting himself out. "Hell yeah, that last berry pie has my vote."

She took his hand and squeezed gently. "Lead the way."


End file.
